


One More Troubled Soul

by obaewankenope (rexthranduil)



Category: Jurassic Park (Movies), Jurassic Park - All Media Types, Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Mutants, BAMF Blue, BAMF Owen, Gen, Mutant Owen, Mutant Powers, Powerful Owen, random idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-04-12 01:43:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 71,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4460495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rexthranduil/pseuds/obaewankenope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even when he was a kid Owen Grady was unusual, a mutant in a world where being a mutant was both a blessing and a curse. Ex-Navy and skilled in all manner of things, working as the head Raptor Trainer at Jurassic World draws more judgement than his feral status ever did. When the day comes that his comfy, predictable life on Isla Nublar changes, Owen has to either step-up and act or find himself trampled in the stampede.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Start

**Author's Note:**

> So I was reading the [Pushing Boundaries](http://archiveofourown.org/series/280323) series by [Macx](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx) (go and read them if you haven't already they're amazing!) and this little idea sort of popped into my head. I'm going to try and update this weekly but it depends on how much demand there is for updates. Motivation is important! :)

In the last sixty-years, anti-mutant sentiments had all but died out—what with so many of the global population having some sort of mutation it was a mute issue really. Laws were put into effect to protect powered and non-powered alike, registers created for powered individuals so that their abilities could be monitored to ensure they didn’t abuse them, workplace rules and regulations making it impossible for workers to dismiss anyone on the grounds of their mutation—and a clause stating that at least 10% of their workforce had to be powered.

Most of the time mutants were accepted, considered human but a bit different—similar in standing with non-national individuals in countries—and the discrimination they faced was generally reserved to street corners and disgusted looks from people who were forced to serve them, employ them, treat them like the people they were.

The ones that suffered the most discrimination were the mutants who were physically different—different colours, taller, smaller, strange appendages, non-human body structures. The law wasn’t too good at handling the discrimination these people faced but, when it did, it came down on the discriminators  _hard_. So hard that people were reluctant to get a fine or prison time just because they hated mutants.

It didn’t stop some of course—of course it wouldn’t—the anti-mutant protesters, much like the anti-gay protesters, were relentless in their hatred. But the government was on the side of mutants now; mainly because most world governments were over 70% mutant.

In the early 1980s a scientist had discovered a way of dampening the strength of the x-gene (really a handful of genes that determined the powers and abilities each mutant developed). It wasn’t entirely effective and seemed to have near enough no effect on low and mid-level mutants but, startlingly, it had a significant impact on high-level mutants, those termed ‘Omega’ for the strength of their powers.

Omega-level mutants weren’t necessarily common but they were prevalent enough that the technique the scientist had discovered was refined and improved until in the late 1990s the US government rolled out a national initiative. Any omega-level mutant that was identified was immediately given the gene therapy in order to minimise the risk they posed. Of course, they dressed it up as a public service—for the “safety of the people”, for the omega mutant’s “mental and physical well-being”—but, in the end, all they wanted was for omega mutants to be out of the picture.

And it worked.

Children born with the x-gene were tested when they reached puberty to determine the strength of their mutation. Over 60% of those tested were low-level mutants while less than 10% could be classed as omega-level. Only a select few weren’t given gene therapy, mainly orphans or foster children who disappeared from the world, forgotten about. No one cared about runaways, orphans. The unwanted.

There were always discussions over the possibility of the children being taken by the government, trained, controlled. But that’s all they ever were, discussions. No one did more than make a passing comment on the situation. They were more concerned with their daily lives, with being “protected” from dangerous omega mutants.

When Owen was nine his powers manifested. He was with his grandfather and was fortunate the man himself was a mid-level mutant that disagreed with the government’s policy. He had spent days, weeks, coaching Owen, teaching him how to control himself, how to not let instinct guide him. His parents hadn’t been any the wiser when they’d come to collect him at the end of the summer and he didn’t tell them anything. Even at nine Owen was reluctant to trust people, even his own parents. His grandfather had his trust because he was powered like Owen and didn’t resent the fact—unlike his father who would complain about how mutants were “stealing all the jobs” nowadays.

Mandatory tests were performed when children turned eleven, no exceptions. Owen was tested and he was terrified the entire time. What if they found out? What if they drugged him? What if they took his powers away?

An eleven-year-old child terrified out of his mind at the prospect of losing a part of himself, that was what the legislation had done. The crime rates were still high, accidents still happened, people still died, disasters still occurred. The only difference was there were no omega-mutants involved. And that perception made everyone feel safer. No uncontrollable mutants running around, losing control and harming innocent people. Not once did they consider the impact on their children who were powered, on their children who could be omega’s themselves. Not once.

 

* * *

 

_“Well it looks like you’re an alpha-level mutant Owen!” The school nurse declared happily. “I’ll note this down in your file and I’ll just need some details from you about what your mutation is and then you can go back to class and tell all your friends!”_

_He wasn’t an alpha mutant. Owen knew what type of mutant he was and it certainly wasn’t an alpha. His grandfather could sense mutant powers, their strengths and he’d said Owen was far stronger than the typical mutant, stronger by far. The nurse was wrong._

_But Owen wasn’t about to tell her that._

_“I don’t know.” Owen answered, honestly. “I’m not sure what my mutation is.”_

_The nurse frowned slightly and then smiled. “Okay then, no problem! We’ll just do a few exercises and see what they tell us!”_

_Trying to move objects with his mind. Trying to turn the lights on and off. Catching a ball. Listening to a heartbeat. Trying to shape-shift. Trying to control other people. Trying to hear thoughts._

_The exercises revealed only that Owen was physically enhanced. His stamina, strength, reflexes and senses were all high; his focus sharp and animal-like. The nurse declared him a feral mutant—someone with animal instincts and abilities. A good, strong power. Safe. People were okay with ferals, didn’t fear them like they did telepaths, telekinetics, shapeshifters. Owen’s mutation was safe. He was_ _safe_ _._

 

* * *

 

After the test Owen’s life was normal. He went to school, came home, talked to friends, lived with his parents—both of whom were weary of him because of his new found alpha mutant status. Nothing really changed. It was… routine.

Then his mom died. An accident. Car crash. Nothing that anyone could do. It was quick. She didn’t even feel it. Owen didn’t care, his mom was dead.

His dad changed overnight. Gone was the mostly calm man who looked at his mutant son with love and weariness. Owen’s life turned into a living nightmare, one where he was blamed for his mom’s death, for his mutation, for existing. His dad became a monster in Owen’s eyes and the day he turned eighteen he ran from his father right into the waiting hands of the NAVY.

Training was easy, following orders was easy, being treated like crap—while not enjoyable—was something Owen handled. Rooming with three other feral mutants… _that_ wasn’t so easy. They were all instinctively territorial, aggressive and angry. Owen was the calmest among them, able to reign in his temper thanks to his grandfather’s teachings. They were the only thing that kept Owen from beating his fellow mutants half the time.

Being a feral in the armed forces was good, you were well-respected for your abilities, your senses and reflexes able to save a lot of lives. You were given top-notch treatment, considered valuable assets. Owen didn’t care. He was just glad he was away from his father.

The NAVY was a new home for Owen, he loved every second of it (except bunking with his feral teammates). The missions were difficult, challenging, and worth every ounce of blood, sweat and tears they wrung out of him. He amassed a pretty impressive record in only four years of service, so impressive that he was sent on covert missions. In his downtime he helped out with the animal trainers, worked in controlling and taming the dolphins they used. It was easy for him, even though he was a feral which supposedly made him less likely to train animals—something about scents and how ferals smelt like threats.

When one of his missions went wrong and most of his team died, he applied to work as a handler in the NMMP. His application was approved and the NAVY realised that one of their best operatives didn’t have the heart anymore for the types of missions they wanted him on. He still had four years of his ten-year contract left so he worked with the dolphins.

 

* * *

 

_“Lieutenant Grady.”_

_Owen looked up from the documents he was perusing at his desk and immediately rose to snap off a salute. “Sir.”_

_“At ease Lieutenant. I just came to see how you were.” His superior officer stated, a crooked smile on his face. Owen relaxed his posture and gestured for the Captain of the base to take a seat. “It’s not often I get offered a seat on the other side of the desk.”_

_“I imagine not sir.” Owen grinned as he and the Captain sat opposite each other. “If I may sir, what are you here for?”_

_The Captain sighed and gave Owen a measuring look that had the Lieutenant tensing slightly._

_“You’re a good officer you know that Lieutenant?” The Captain asked, taking Owen’s slight nod as agreement. “The NAVY owes you a lot for the things you’ve done these past years and someone up top finally listened to what I had to say about you.”_

_“Sir?” Owen questioned, brow furrowing slightly as he stared at the Captain who seemed like he was trying to sort out his thoughts. “What do you mean sir?”_

_“I mean Lieutenant, that you have been offered a scholarship with the NAVY to attend a university of your choice to undertake whatever studies you wish.” The Captain said, giving Owen a smile. “No need to look so shocked! It wasn’t bad news I was trying to give you!”_

_Owen blinked at his Captain in surprise. He couldn’t believe it. He was being given the chance to get a degree. An honest to God degree! He smiled at the Captain, his surprise making way for happiness._

_“Did you make this happen sir?” Owen asked, wanting to clarify everything and see if the Captain would confirm his suspicions._

_“And half the NMMP as well.” The Captain admitted, letting out a laugh as Owen’s eyes widened. “You made a good impression on them Lieutenant. It’s not everyday someone can waltz in and train a dozen spinners in less than a month!”_

 

* * *

 

Owen studied hard in university, getting as many degrees as he could in the four-year period the NAVY had given him. He wondered if they expected him to stay on for another ten years, give them more of his life, but somehow he doubted it. The guys in NMMP had told him that they didn’t expect him to come back because of some misplaced need to thank people. In fact, half of them had all but ordered him to leave the NAVY and make a life somewhere for himself where he wouldn’t have to dodge missions that he didn’t want to do.

So that’s exactly what he did.

With a fresh-off-the-press Master’s degree to go with his Bachelor’s, Owen became a certified animal trainer and handler with a specialism in animal psychology and predators. His qualifications opened doors that would have remained shut and he found himself travelling all over the world, working in Zoos and Wildlife Preserves the world over. He loved every second of it. How could he not? He got to travel and be with animals!

Animals had been his only consolation when his mom died and his dad turned into a monster. He would volunteer at the local animal shelter, would hide out in the woods near his home, look after the neighbour’s pets. Animals loved him. He never understood why, he was a feral and animals were meant to hate the smell of ferals, but they didn’t hate him. So he went with it.

And when he got back to the States after a three-year stint in an African nature preserve he returned to find himself with another job offer on the table.

 

* * *

 

_“Come to the island for an interview.” The woman said in the silence Owen had caused when he said he wouldn’t work at a circus. “Just come for a weekend, I’ll have everything prepared for your arrival. See what the job is. Then decide Mr Grady.”_

_“When?” Owen asked, curiosity piqued by the woman’s insistence that he at least show up for an interview. “And how will I get there?”_

_“Next month, the 17th.” The woman replied immediately, she sounded composed but Owen could hear the undercurrent of relief in her voice. Apparently she’d honestly expected Owen to say no. “I’ll have tickets booked for you and transport available for when you land, you just have to show up Mr Grady.”_

_Owen quirked a smile. Masrani Global was determined to get him to this island weren’t they?_

_“Of course miss…” He trailed off, having forgotten her name—he had been a bit distracted by the job offer._

_“Dearing. Miss Claire Dearing.” The woman replied._

_“Of course miss Dearing. I’ll see you next month then.”_

_“Goodbye Mr Grady.” Miss Dearing said before hanging up and leaving Owen to his thoughts in his quiet apartment.  He doubted he’d take the job but the offer of free transport south of the equator and a free weekend at a hotel appealed to Owen. If the place was decent, he might even go back another time. If it wasn’t, well he could handle it when he got there._

_It was another adventure._


	2. The Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen takes his girls for a hunt. Claire's nephews arrive. And I realise I can't stick to my own schedule and have to post the moment I've finished a chapter!

“Hello my beautiful ladies!”

Four sets of eyes fixed themselves on the man walking towards them, their gazes sharp and observant. The eldest let out a sharp cry and Owen smiled.

“Yeah Blue, it’s a hunt day!” Owen laughed as he watched his ladies almost vibrate on the spot with excitement.

Two weeks. It’d been two weeks since they’d gone on a hunt and they were ecstatic at the prospect.

Kept inside their paddock for safety reasons, Owen had argued viciously for his girls to have a short while out at least twice a month to help control their predatory instincts.

Not that his ladies could be tamed and their instincts suppressed of course, but it was easier for Owen and better for his ladies if they were able to get hunting practice in. After all, as pack alpha he had a responsibility to his ladies in a way no one else on the island could ever understand.

Owen lifted the primary gate to the enclosure and held back another laugh as he watched his girls chitter excitedly and watch his movements with poorly suppressed joy. Blue was the only exception, holding herself up high and looking regal as ever, she stood at the front of the pack and watched Owen with a calmer, more controlled stance.

To anyone unfamiliar with the pack they would think that Blue was completely composed and preparing something, but Owen knew his girls and they couldn’t hide anything from him.

Once the second gate was unlocked, Owen found his personal space invaded by four very happy velociraptors who all took turns in sniffing him—though Blue was first and she sniffed him again after Delta, Charlie and Echo each scented their alpha.

“Okay. Eyes on me ladies,” Owen said and was pleased as his girls immediately snapped to attention, their postures becoming controlled and restrained, their gazes focused and sharp. “Follow closely and don’t deviate from the route—Delta,” Owen gave the raptor on his far right a look and was pleased when Delta chirped sharply in response.

“Good girls. Okay. Come on,” he left the gates open and moved to his bike, which he’d propped up against the wall of the paddock, knowing without having to look that his girls were following him.

Once he was on his bike and his girls were again almost vibrating with tension, Owen gave a sharp whistle and took off down the track they usually took for their hunting trips.

The sound of four screeches echoed behind him and he went faster, grinning in excitement as he heard his girls moving swiftly behind him, eating up the distance and moving alongside him.

 

* * *

 

_“So, miss Dearing. Would you like to go on a date?” Owen chanced, smirking at the woman who had offered him this opportunity._

_He’d already said yes to the job, exhilarated at the chance he was being given, and still high on emotions Owen decided to do something he hadn’t in a long time. Try and date a co-worker._

_“Is this how you usually make such proposals mister Grady or should I consider myself special?” Claire replied, giving the new trainer a speculative look._

_Owen laughed, she was a tough one! He liked a challenge._

_“Well no. It’s not every day I’m offered a ‘once in a lifetime opportunity’ and meet a force of nature all in the same day.” Owen grinned as Claire’s eyes widened slightly._

_She felt a light blush trying to work its way on her face and for a moment Claire cursed her pale complexion. Then she focused on Owen._

_“Nine o’clock. Tomorrow night. I expect to go somewhere amazing mister Grady,” Claire stated, not giving Owen a chance to disagree, and deciding to just go with it. Maybe it’d work out?_

_“Yes ma’am,” Owen agreed, his grin widening as Claire gave him a sharp nod and then turned and walked back towards the control room. He resisted the urge to punch the air and instead whistled merrily as he returned to his newly leased home on Isla Nublar._

_The date was an utter failure. Completely._

_Owen wore shorts because, hello it was hot out! And Claire wasn’t pleased. The meal calmed her for a while until she realised Owen had no other plans for the night even though they could have done anything. A quiet walk in the botanical gardens, a drive to one of the viewing platforms. Anything._

_Owen apparently assumed she was an easy challenge. So Claire hit back at the trainer by mentioning how much she hoped he’d planned an itinerary to cover costs and expenses._

_They didn’t try and date again after that and their relationship became purely professional. Though Owen was displeased and Claire refused to allow herself to feel anything other than relief. Relationships were too much trouble anyway, she had a park to run._

 

* * *

 

Although the park was thriving with visitors in their thousands on a near daily basis, Masrani Global, arguing that, since the most recent addition of a new attraction was several years ago, wanted a new one would dramatically impact visitor numbers. The board agreed and Simon Masrani tasked the scientists of Jurassic World to create a new attraction that would blow people’s minds for years to come.

It had been the dream of John Hammond to create something unique with Jurassic Park. That had obviously failed, leaving Hammond near ruined and an island full of previously extinct animals roaming about.

When Hammond had reached out to Simon and his company, imploring him to keep his dream alive, Simon had happily agreed. And twenty-two years after the disaster that was the original park, Jurassic World was flourishing. Attendance peaked every time they unveiled a new dinosaur and Masrani Global reaped in the cash.

It was obvious that the public were still fascinated by dinosaurs, though not as much as they once were, and they loved anything that was remotely dangerous or vicious. Predators were what the public wanted to see, a spectacle of violence not unlike the violence once displayed in the colosseum of Rome.

But there is a danger in giving people what they want. For their desire to be scared, awed and amazed by horror, horrible things must be considered and the most foolish of actions undertook. All at the cost of ignoring common sense.

 

* * *

 

“Where’s aunt Claire?” Gray whispered to his brother who gave him a glare.

“I don’t know,” Zach answered, rolling his eyes in frustration. Trust their aunt to not even bother showing up, instead fobbing them off on some random woman.

“Where are we going?” Gray asked, his voice loud enough that Zara, the woman who had met them at the dock, heard.

“The hotel. Your aunt will meet you there and you’ll be given your wristbands for the park,” Zara answered, sounding especially put upon. She was a PA not a babysitter!

The brothers were silent after that, joining the throngs of visitors on the monorail. When they saw the giant gates of Jurassic World even Zach, who was in a foul mood, was impressed.

Gray was almost vibrating in his seat, absolutely enamoured with the park and the dinosaurs he couldn’t wait to see. He loved the creatures! Zach was always telling him to shut up because he talked about them so much.

When they reached the hotel they were impressed, but Zach hid it with a scowl. He hadn’t wanted to come to the stupid island in the first place, leaving his friends and girlfriend behind, but his parents were arguing daily and thought it best for them to be away from the ‘toxic environment’ otherwise known as their home.

God, having parents who wanted a divorce was a nightmare! Zach just wished they’d stop already, stop with all the fighting and arguing. He wanted his family back to how they were, not falling apart. He wanted to go home.

“You’re not coming with us?” Gray questioned their aunt, who looked at them with barely concealed unease. Zach wanted to laugh. Even their aunt didn’t want them around!

He said something scathing, knew it hurt her feelings but he was too angry at her to care. Let her feel a little bit of what they were going through! They didn’t ask to be shipped off to her by their parents, they didn’t ask for this. God, why was everything so wrong!

Their aunt was saying something about a meeting and finishing work around 8, 9 what did it matter? It wasn’t like she was making time for them. They didn’t matter to her. Heck, she didn’t even know how long it’d been since she’d last seen them!

This was going to suck, Zach sighed. He wanted to go home.

 

* * *

 

Snaking to the left Owen heard the sound of his beta letting out a huff of frustration. As always Blue followed his every move, never leaving his side, as the pack moved into the deepest part of the restricted section. Off to his left he heard the quick steps of Charlie and Delta, and Echo on his right. The typical formation for the pack.

Echo and Charlie were good scouts, quick on their feet, but Delta and Blue were more the heavy hitters of the pack. Whenever Charlie or Echo picked up a scent they’d relay it to the rest of the pack and, when they’d tracked down the source, Delta and Blue would sweep in, ruthless and efficient, leaving Owen to observe his girls be their naturally efficient selves.

Letting out a sharp whistle Owen was rewarded with a sharp hiss from Echo on his far right as she moved closer to her alpha and beta. Charlie and Delta moved forward so they were in front of the rest of the pack, snaking through the undergrowth and dodging trees effortlessly.

Bursting out into the plains of the restricted section Owen was pleased to note that his girls moved quickly so that they surrounded their alpha, running abreast to his bike. Training and instinct paid well when it came to hunting.

The plains in the restricted section were expansive but bereft of animals so Owen had gone on his knees, begging the herbivore trainers to give him and his pack something to hunt every now and then. It had taken weeks to convince them—in the end he’d had to contact Simon Masrani and explain that his girls needed to hunt to be happy—but he’d gotten his wish. Now, once every two months, Owen and his girls would get to hunt one of the herbivores from a breeding pack—the rest of the hunts were usually livestock like sheep and goats.

 

* * *

 

_“If you even think that you’ll get more than one of our girls every two months Grady, I will personally maim you,” Gemma, the lead trainer of the Pachycephalosaurus herd threatened, her words promising Owen a world of pain should he ever try and get more for his girls from them. He’d wisely nodded and backed away from her, hands out, and refused to turn his back to her—she was more of a handful than his girls._

_“Scouts honour Gemma,” Owen swore trying not to wince at the disbelieving look she gave him, as well as the fact that she looked like she was seriously contemplating tossing him off the walkway surrounding the Pachy Arena. “Honestly. I just want my girls to be happy, and for that they gotta hunt.”_

_Gemma glared at him, obviously not at all understanding of the raptor trainer’s concern for his girls. He couldn’t really blame her. Raising carnivores was incredibly different to herbivores— namely due to the fact that carnivores ate herbivores.  Still, his girls needed to hunt and the Pachy herd was large enough and had breeding males that it was the only herd that could reasonable be used for this purpose. Not that any of the herbivore trainers appreciated, or accepted, his reasoning. Thank God for Simon Masrani and his personal brand of charm and charisma—God knows Owen was useless with people, give him animals any day. At least they’d only eat him._

 

* * *

 

An hour before he’d released his girls Owen had sent a quick message to the ACU team that had the fun responsibility of herding a young adolescent Pachy into the restricted section confirming that they’d managed to herd the erstwhile creature near the restricted plains. He also promised them a beer for the effort they put into making sure his girls had a good hunt with a mostly okay Pachy adolescent.

The first time they’d tranquilised the old Pachy and left her in the open to wake up. Unfortunately, she’d been wobbly on her feet and his girls had finished her off quickly. And then gotten sick from the tranquiliser in the Pachy’s system.

Needless to say, Owen vetoed ever tranquilising the animals for the hunt again. ACU had been more understanding than he’d expected and even apologised for the situation. Now his girls could look forward to a challenging hunt that would end with a tasty meal and no post-hunt sickness. And Owen could look forward to not spending three days worrying over his girls and driving half of the island security up the wall with how often he ignored protocol and mothered his girls in their paddock.

“Echo.” Owen murmured looking at the young raptor to his right, pleased when she immediately looked at him. “Scout.”

One word commands were the simplest and easiest things for him and his girls, they didn’t need any more than that to do their jobs in the hunt, and Owen watched as Echo immediately darted off into the long grass by the edge of the forest, moving with a deadly grace that made her and her sisters the stuff of nightmares to most sane people.

“Charlie, go.” Owen gave a sharp jerk of his head, watching as Charlie moved and disappeared in the long grass on the opposite side, her and Echo moving in silence and only the brief rustle of the grass giving away that they were there at all. He kept a sharp eye on the plain, Delta and Blue beside him, waiting in tense expectation. They’d move as one when either Echo or Charlie confirmed their prey was in the area.

A sharp bark echoed in the open plain from the left and Owen let out a high-pitched whistle in response. Hold and wait.

Echo’s path banked to the left, moving to flank the Pachy Charlie had spotted. Owen and his other two girls moved quickly, eating up the grass. Owen’s bike was loud to his ears but he’d spent a small fortune making it as quiet as possible, and then several months getting the Pachy herd used to the sound so they wouldn’t panic when they heard it. He could move faster than the average human but even he couldn’t keep up with his girls in a full out sprint, so the bike was his only option for hunts. Unless he baited their target and led it into a trap but the Pachy’s were surprisingly good at recognising a ploy when they saw one.

Another whistle and he heard the tell-tale shriek of two raptors, Charlie and Echo, bursting out from the long grass towards the young Pachy who was grazing peacefully. They flanked it just as Owen, Delta and Blue crested the small rise of the hill they’d been steadily moving up. The Pachy let out a cry of panic and fear, turning sharply on her feet and barrelling towards Owen and his girls before she saw them coming toward her.

Letting out another cry she turned again, banking to the left only to find her escape route cut off by Charlie jumping out of the grass and snapping at her neck. Only the Pachy’s speed and reflexes saved her from being downed by Charlie’s sharp teeth in her neck. Delta and Blue fanned out around him, moving with deadly intent and Owen revved his bike, making sure to panic the Pachy and distract it as it continued to run around in large arcing circles.

Echo burst out of the underbrush by the trees, snapping at its heel and managing to draw blood, driving the Pachy into a fear frenzy. Delta and Blue, at a sharp whistle from Owen, moved in for the kill. Charlie and Echo snapped at the Pachy’s legs, managing to land bites and scratches that slowed down the herbivores movements and Delta took the opportunity to launch herself onto the Pachy’s back, digging her sickle claws into the Pachy’s back and biting down with her powerful jaws.

Blue went for its neck, her teeth gouging deep holes into its neck and the Pachy went down, unable to support its weight on injured legs and balance properly with two raptors hanging off her.

The moment her large body hit the ground Charlie and Echo dived in, Charlie going for the neck alongside Blue and Echo for a leg, further paralysing the Pachy’s movements. Owen felt a budding of pride and watched as his girls worked efficiently and ruthlessly to exhaust the Pachy and drain it of enough blood that it couldn’t escape them.

Echo moved to the Pachy’s unprotected belly and ripped into the tough skin, the Pachy now too exhausted to fight and unable to do anything but let out a quiet cry of pain as Echo dug deeper and began chewing on the Pachy’s innards. Delta ripped into the Pachy’s back, ripping chunks of meat off it’s back and wolfing them down.

Owen, realising his girls would eat while it was alive and not really wishing to give the herbivore trainers any more reasons to string him up, climbed off his bike and drew a long, serrated blade from his belt. Blue and Charlie had abandoned the Pachy’s neck, moving to join Echo and Delta in devouring the Pachy’s tender stomach and back, so Owen had a clear way to the Pachy’s head.

Kneeling beside it’s head, he lifted it up and rested it on his knee, observing with a kind of detached air that its breathing was laboured and eyes rolling back in its head. It was dying. Quickly, without giving any indication of what he was about to do, Owen drove his blade into the back of the Pachy’s skull, killing it with one deft blow. He twisted the blade to make sure the spinal cord was fully cut, ignoring how his girls had paused in their eating to watch him, before pulling out the blade and letting the Pachy’s head fall to the ground.

He looked up at his girls, noticing how they watched him with interest. Every time they hunted he did this, killed the Pachy they downed, and every time they watched him. He never lingered, he just wiped the blood off on the grass, re-sheathed the blade and moved back to his bike where he’d wolf down his own meal watching his girls return to their own.

They’d return to the paddock later in the day, before dusk fell, and his girls had had time to digest their meal. Owen would clean himself up from the hunt, check on his girls again, give Barry his thanks for cleaning the paddock while he was hunting, and then he’d join the other trainers for a drink where he’d again thank the Pachy trainers and assure them that his girls hadn’t eaten their Pachy alive.


	3. The Asshole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen and Hoskins shouldn't ever be near each other. Ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this isn't as long as it should be, I havd an ear infection so I wasn't able to write a lot. I managed to get this done and I'm posting it because I want you guys to have something to read.  
> This is the first chapter where we see Owen being a mutant and all badass.

Pulling into the drive outside his trailer Owen let out a quiet sigh. It had been a mad day. Disastrous. First his girls had gone off script after their hunt, ignoring his command to return to the paddock they’d veered off eastwards leaving Owen to catch up and forcibly turn them back. The look Blue had given him still stung. She’d looked at him with betrayal.

But he couldn’t let them go off exploring on their own and they had to get back to the paddock, so he’d forced his girls home and locked them back up. As if that wasn’t bad enough he had to deal with afternoon training because InGen are assholes and don’t like wasting time.

He could have handled the training. His girls had settled down enough, no longer snapping at his every move with restrained anger and resentment, but then life decided to give him an extra punch in the face.

Hoskins. Hoskins had arrived and  _everything_  had gone to hell.

 

* * *

 

“Hey! Eyes on me!” Owen called, focusing on his girls and giving them a small nod in approval when all four sets of reptilian eyes locked on his form above them. “Good! Separate!”

His girls darted off, each focused on racing to one of the corners of the training paddock. Blue chose the corner closest to him, snapping at Echo when she tried to join her. Keeping an eye on them Owen looked over at Barry at the end of the catwalk.

“Open the hatch!” Barry called, his accent sharp and loud in the silence of the paddock. The wall opposite the gates was solid, reinforced steel and at the bottom in the centre was a half-a-metre tall hatch. The cover shot up and a pink flash shot out, tearing into the paddock and letting out loud squeals.

“Hold!” Owen called out, spotting Delta starting to move. She growled at him but stayed where she was. Owen turned his attention to the small piglet that was running in the paddock, desperately looking for a way out. “Go!” In less than a second his girls were moving, Delta and Blue banking around the edges of the paddock, Charlie and Echo in the middle. They moved as one large, deadly line, herding the piglet into a corner. They’d block it in and then rip it apart in less than a minute—as usual.

A loud screech and a deep growl emanated from the underbrush to the right of the piglet, scaring it and it bolted in the opposite direction, right at Charlie who instinctively snapped at it and missed. The piglet took advantage of Charlie’s lung and darted through her legs, managing to slip past the ever-shrinking living wall they’d created.

Owen resisted the urge to laugh at the enraged shriek Charlie let out as she and Echo turned on their heels and powered after the piglet. His youngest was hilarious sometimes. He still remembered how uncoordinated she was when she first explored Owen’s trailer—she’d tripped and ended up buried in his pile of dirty washing, squeaking indignantly with a sock stuck on her tail. It’d taken Owen five minutes to chase her down and get the damned thing off her, then she’d decided to kill it and Owen had lost another pair of socks to his girls.

A streak of blue flashed across the clearing just in front of where Owen was standing on the catwalk and the sound of pain squealing rang out in the paddock before it was abruptly cut off and the only sounds were the growing of the pack and the shrieks of success and frustration of each of his girls.

Watching Blue rip into the piglet, Owen couldn’t help but feel proud of her. She was his oldest, his strongest, and he loved her. She wasn’t a pet and she wasn’t a person, she was a wild animal that Owen had raised and she’d deemed him worthy of her respect and trust. He’d never betray that. Never.

A loud, irritating voice cut through Owen’s peaceful contemplation of his girls, instantly riling him and his back muscles tensed. Hoskins.

 _Fuck_.

Trying his best to not tear the asshole apart Owen listened with half an ear to Hoskins rant. The man was obsessed with weaponising his pack. Using his girls as tools of war. Owen was more than tempted to let Delta eat him—he could plead ignorance since she hated him enough to ignore any command Owen gave.

“War is a part of nature. Look around, Owen!” Hoskins voice was passionate, filled with fire and Owen instantly focused on his words. He already knew he wouldn’t like them.

“Every living thing in this jungle is trying to murder the other. Mother Nature’s way of testing her creations,” Hoskins gave Owen a grim smile and clapped a hand on Owen’s shoulder, oblivious to the instinct Owen was suppressing that told him to rip Hoskins damn arm off. “Refining the pecking order. War’s a struggle!”

Owen shrugged Hoskins hand off and began moving, away from his girls who were still enjoying their meal. Thankfully Hoskins wasn’t quite loud enough to catch their attention. If he had been… well, Owen wouldn’t be the only one wanting to remove his limbs.

“Struggle breeds greatness Owen. Without that, we end up with places like this,” Hoskins continued, waving his hand derisively as he and Owen moved across the dirt clearing outside the training paddock. “Charging seven bucks a soda.”

Owen didn’t care. He didn’t care if they charged fifty bucks a soda. Didn’t care if war made men great. Didn’t give a damn if Hoskins thought Mother Nature was heartless. Owen. Didn’t.  _Care_.

All he cared about were his girls and Hoskins could take a swim in the Mosasaur tank for all Owen cared about the man and his obsession with war. He was the head of InGen security for a damned theme park for Christ’s sake! What the hell did chasing after lost kids and arresting petty thieves have to do with war? Hoskins had no need to want to weaponise his girls. He was a damned security guard not an Army General!

“Drones can’t search tunnels and caves,” Hoskins continued, rattling on and on at Owen. “And they’re hackable. The minute real war breaks out, all that tech is gonna go dark.”

 _Jesus,_  had Hoskins been playing Call of Duty or something? The man was insane!

“But that tech’s not gonna eat them if they forget to feed it,” Owen responded, giving Hoskins a hard look, despising the way the man laughed and obsessed about violence. Hoskins kept talking but Owen tuned him out, he was done with the man. Let him talk, Owen didn’t have to listen. Some men like the sound of their own voice too much to listen to others.

“PIG OUT!” A sharp cry from the paddock caught Owen’s attention and he cursed himself for leaving his girls because of this stupid man.

From where he was standing Owen watched in muted horror as an intern leaned over the catwalk rail and tried to hook the pig. He knew he wouldn’t manage it before his girls got the thing. They were angry, they’d smelt Hoskins, heard him. That piglet wasn’t gonna survive.

A cry of surprise was all the intern managed as the hook was took by one of the raptors and pulled him over the rail into the paddock below.

A paddock with four very angry, very territorial velociraptors.

“Shit!” Owen raced to the paddock gate, hitting the release button even as he watched his girls circle the kid. He barrelled through the primary gate and hit the release on the secondary gate, cursing how slow the damned thing was. Security features were only good when you were on the outside!

He managed to duck under the second gate, aware that Barry had shut the primary and was holding the secondary one open.

“Hey!” Owen barked, catching his girl’s attention as they hissed at the intruder. Instinct was telling them to kill the intruder, to rip them apart, teach others a lesson they’d never forget. But instinct would get them killed. InGen soldiers, armed with live rounds— _wow Hoskins you ass_ —were aiming at his girls, ready to open fire the moment they went for the intern. “Eyes on me!”

“Stand down!” Owen shouted up at the soldiers reading their weapons. “You put twelve volts in these girls they’ll never trust me again!”

Ignoring the soldiers, knowing they’d listen because Hoskins wasn’t countermanding his order—the man was a dick but he could at least recognise that Owen was the one to listen right this second—Owen refocused his attention entirely on his girls.

Instinct was roaring in his ears, tensing his muscles, wanting him to attack, to defend, to rip and tear and–

No. It wasn’t. Instinct wasn’t doing that.

_Blue was._

“Blue cut it out!” Owen snapped. His beta gave him a reproachful look and snapped at him. “Don’t give me that shit Blue!”

Barry was at the gate; the kid was moving. All Owen had to do was keep his girls focused on him and Blue from doing anything. God being a mutant sucked sometimes.

“Owen!” Barry called softly from the gate. “Owen!”

“Shut the gate.” Owen murmured out of the side of his mouth, refusing to look away from Blue.

“What?” Barry exclaimed. “Owen no!”

The buzz of the gate starting to close made Owen want to sigh with relief but Delta was moving forward and Charlie and Blue were snarling. But he couldn’t see Echo.

“OWEN!” Barry screamed and Owen reacted, throwing himself to the right just in time to avoid Echo throwing herself at him from his far left—she’d moved just beyond his line of sight and he hadn’t noticed! Fuck!

Knowing that InGen would open fire on his girls Owen did the only thing he could think of. He turned on his heel and dived at Echo, slamming into her side and sending them both tumbling to the ground.

There was shouting and screeching but Owen wasn’t worried about the screeching and the shouting was from Barry and Hoskins both stopping the soldiers from opening fire.

It’d been years since Owen had done this, fighting with one of his girls. Rolling around in the dirt and avoiding sharp teeth and claws trying to rip into him as he dug his nails into rough hide and into soft flesh underneath.

Owen didn’t have claws exactly, not like his girls, but he did have abnormally strong nails and hard calloused finger tips. He kept them cut low but like a cat they could extend and they were vicious.

Echo gave a screech of pain as Owen roared at her, rolling them around enough for him to get her in a bastardised version of a choke hold, his legs wrapped around her middle and hooked over one of her legs, one set of nails digging into her neck and forcing her to still in her movements.

It took a few minutes of thrashing but Echo eventually settled down and Owen gave her a snarl as he released her and pushed her off him, springing to his feet.

The other raptors were a few feet away, Delta and Charlie both hunched and heads low. Blue was tense and snarling but it wasn’t directed at Owen. It was directed at Echo.

Owen clicked his fingers, catching her attention. “No.” She growled at him. “Blue no. Enough. Stand down.”

Echo remained on the ground at Owen’s feet, her neck lain out, exposed, and let out a quiet whimper. Owen ignored it. The rest of the pack ignored it.

He moved. The pack remained where they were.

He went to the gate. Blue let out a questioning warble. Owen ignored it.

Barry opened the gate and Owen left the paddock, ignoring the concerned look and scent of fear on his friend.

He ignored Hoskins as the man came over to congratulate him on what happened in the paddock. He ignored him right until-

“You should put that one down Grady. It’s a trouble maker. Not worth the effort.”

With a roar of rage Owen threw himself at Hoskins, the man’s surprised cry muffled and Owen barrelled into him. He punched him in the face, nails digging into the palm of his hand. He kept hitting him, his punches powerful and strong enough that Hoskins was completely disorientated, but not strong enough to break bones.

It took four soldiers and Barry to drag him off the bastard of a man and Owen snarled at them all, two of them instantly releasing him and pointing their weapons at him.

“Enough!” Hoskins roared from the ground, hauling himself up and trying to stem the blood flowing from his nose.

So, Owen may not have pulled his punches as much as he should have. What a shame.

“Get out of here Hoskins,” Owen growled, his words rough and harsh. He sounded more like an animal than a human. The scent of fear from the men around him spiked and Owen wrinkled his nose. “Now.”

“Watch yourself, Grady,” Hoskins warned, glaring at the trainer angrily. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Come near my girls again and I’ll kill you,” Owen responded, ignoring the way Barry’s heart rate increased. “I swear to god I will.”

Hoskins, obviously aware of just how much damage ferals could do—especially ferals with an accelerated healing factor—backed down.

The soldiers holding Owen let him go, one of them shoving him and paling when Owen snarled at him. The rest all piled back into their damned trucks, guns held tightly, heart rates spiking, reeking of fear.

Hoskins was the last one to climb back into the truck, turning to give Owen a long, measuring look before he climbed in and the truck pulled away from the paddock. Owen felt like ripping something apart. Or someone. He was full of adrenaline, anger, rage and violent instinct that was all jostling for attention. Ignoring everything Owen got on his bike and drove away.

Barry called after him but Owen ignored him. He needed to be alone. He needed to think. To get back under control again.

God, he  _hated_  Hoskins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll work on another update this week and hopefully give you a longer update than this. I hope you enjoyed this and remember! Comments and kudos are my life blood! :)  
> On a side note: have any of you guys thought Hoskins might be an extra from Call of Duty because wow is that man obsessed with warfare!


	4. The Asset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The latest asset is revealed. Owen is getting the shivers. Claire really loves her job. Hi-jinx kinda ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I'm surprised I got this chapter out today (I've literally only written it today)!  
> Some of the dialogue is from the movie itself but since I've only watched it once I can't remember it all and have been relying on my poor, over-taxed brain and google. This is an AU fic but it'll still follow some of the movie's format.  
> Leave a comment below if you like it because seriously, this is kinda killing me to write.

“So how has our latest venture come along Claire?” Simon Masrani enquired as he walked with Claire to the luxury SUV parked outside the helicopter landing zone.

“We had some minor setbacks with the DNA sequence and a few issues during paddock construction, but nothing that was a true concern,” Claire replied as they both climbed into the SUV and it pulled away, moving in the direction of the latest ‘park venture’.

“No one was harmed?” Masrani enquired, his brows furrowing as Claire delicately avoided his gaze.

“Not severely no. The most severe injury was a broken leg and minor concussion from an over-zealous worker,” Claire elaborated, mostly-truthful in her response. The broken leg  _had_  been the most severe injury during the construction and it  _was_  from an over-zealous, highly passionate worker. The situation that caused the injury the first place however… was not so simple.

“Fortunate,” Masrani responded, well-aware that Claire wasn’t telling him everything but he didn’t push. If Claire didn’t think telling him was important then it most likely wasn’t. Or at least, the information wasn’t relevant to Masrani’s purpose on the island so soon after his last visit three months ago.

“How long until the public paddock is ready?” He enquired, amused to note how Clarie’s shoulders relaxed slightly. Obviously, she’d been expecting him to push the issue.

“A further month, there were delays due to insufficient building materials being ferried from the mainland,” Claire answered, she looked at Simon and quirked a brow. “Apparently the worker who put the order in didn’t have a good grasp of either Spanish  _or_  Portuguese.”

Masrani laughed lightly. He could relate with the poor man, Spanish was one of his weakest languages. He could speak a dozen languages with ease but Spanish just didn’t seem to want to join the list.

The SUV pulled off the road, following a well-worn track of heavy gravel and dirt. The track wasn’t as smooth as the main road, with long dips and swells in it from numerous heavy loads, and Masrani gripped the handrail tightly as they came across a particularly nasty pothole.

“You might want to get this route fixed up before next month.” Masrani suggested as the SUV slowed down and the track opened up into a relatively large clearing. A formidable looking concrete paddock in the centre, walls higher than Masrani had expected.

“Noted.” Came the clipped response from Claire as they climbed out of the truck and surveyed the paddock in silence. She led the way to the metal steps leading to the observation platform and Masrani followed, their silence uninterrupted.

It was as though they knew they were about to meet a predator and instinct was telling them to keep quiet and not draw attention to themselves. Of course, instinct was also telling Simon to turn around and leave the island immediately, away from this new monster hidden away behind forty-foot walls of reinforced concrete.

 

* * *

 

Sighing tiredly Owen leaned further against the wall he’d been reclining against for the last hour, his eyes never leaving his girls in the paddock. They milled about, near to him but not too close. All too aware that Owen wasn’t in the mood to deal with them and their unique brand of attention-seeking (Delta) or their instinctual concern for their alpha (Blue and Charlie) or guilty and supplicant behaviour (Echo).

Hoskins  _always_  riled him up, made him want to rip into him and tear out chunks, leave the asshole a bloodied mess on the ground. More often than not it was Barry’s hand on his arm, reassuring and warning at the same time, that kept him from actually giving into his instincts.

So, what  _the hell_  happened today?

Owen hadn’t lost his temper like that in  _years_. The last time he’d been seven and watching some asshole kid bully his sister and push her over, skinning her knees. He’d only been a scrawny little shit and had no real strength to back up his rage, but it hadn’t mattered. He’d surprised the shit and landed some good hits, even broke his nose.

He’d been grounded for three months for that stunt but the way his sister had looked at him afterwards made it worth it. You protected your family and Owen loved his sister too much to let her be hurt just because hurting someone was ‘wrong’. It was  _wrong_  to hurt someone in the  _first place_ , not wrong to  _protect_  someone. Owen had ended up with another two weeks added to his sentence for  _that_  discussion with his parents.

His grandpa had just laughed and ruffled his head when he’d heard about it the summer after.

Whatever had set him on edge had faded away into a background hum. It unsettled Owen that he was so on edge and that he didn’t know why. Usually ferals were damned good at knowing when something was wrong, instincts ripping into them and driving them to action. Owen was no different.

But Isla Nublar was  _safe_.

Well, as safe as an island full of dinosaurs—some of which would eat you—could be.

It didn’t make sense that his instincts were flaring up now, when his girls were fully-grown and there wasn’t anything obvious that was causing him to feel threatened.

No. Not threatened.

 _Challenged_.

Like someone watching him and sizing him up, trying to figure out his weaknesses to use against him.

He remembered the first feral he’d met in the Navy; the guy had been an arrogant son of a bitch and thought he could rule the roost. Thought Owen would fall into line. Owen had succinctly refused and the guy had watched him for weeks before making his move. He’d tried to take Owen down, using his own reluctance to use his claws against him.

The guy was too arrogant and didn’t realise that Owen was only reluctant using his claws against people who  _didn’t_  have accelerated healing like most ferals.

It was the same feeling now that he’d felt for those few weeks waiting for Harvey (or something beginning with a ‘H’) to make his move and it rubbed Owen the wrong way.

None of his girls were challenging him for his position—not even Echo who had attacked him—and he knew that Hoskins was nothing more than an annoying, human-sized, gnat buzzing around him and his girls. But still…

It made his skin itch and the instinctive need to travel the island— _his territory_ —was strong. Owen did his best to ignore it, choosing to focus on his girls and watch them and their behaviour.

They were just as tense as he was, Echo and Charlie obviously aggravated. Though whether that was because Echo had attacked him and Charlie had taken offence—she was protective of her alpha in a way that even made Blue look a little inattentive at times—or if it was because they were picking up on whatever it was Owen had, was up for debate.

He figured it was a bit of both as Blue snapped at them and hissed, the two youngest backing down in the face of their irritated beta. He didn’t blame them. Blue was pretty scary when she was annoyed.

Owen  _still_  had the scars from the first time he’d tugged her tail. Accelerated healing counted for jack shit when raptors were involved apparently.

 

* * *

 

“So, the paddock’s quite safe then?” Masrani finally asked when they entered the air-conditioned observation platform. He looked over at Claire as the woman nodded.

“We have the best structural engineers in the world,” Claire defended. She understood the concerns of all parties involved but honestly, she wouldn’t have allowed the paddock to be built _in the first place_ , or the animal created, if she didn’t have faith in the people working on this.

She barely caught Masrani’s soft mumble of “so did Hammond” but she ignored it and gritted her teeth. She wasn’t going to let this stop her. They _needed_  this to be a success. The  _park_  needed it.

Stood inside the room, Masrani looked around slowly, taking note of the numerous screens and their live feeds of the paddock, the guard sat at his station and the way the man was barely paying attention. Settling his gaze on the large floor-to-ceiling windows Masrani noticed a spider-web crack in one of the panes.

“She’s tried to escape several times. Hence why we’ve increased the height of the walls,” Claire explained, mistaking Simon’s stare at the window as him looking at the walls of the paddock.

“She’s intelligent, then?” He asked, curious as to the answer. He wasn’t sure if he really wanted to hear Claire tell him she was or if he wanted her to laugh at the idea. He wasn’t sure what was worse.

“For a dinosaur,” Claire responded, short and concise. Simon resisted the urge to smile at her. He knew Claire didn’t think the creatures at the park were all that smart. She viewed them more as machines that ate and slept than as living, breathing, thinking things.

Sometimes he wondered why she was so averse to the concept of non-human-intelligence but then he determined it wasn’t any of his business.

“And that?” He questioned, pointing at the spider-webbed glass, not missing the way Claire hesitated and her lips tightened.

“It tried to break the glass,” She replied, her words curt and business-like, as though she wasn’t discussing a huge predatory animal attacking the platform they were stood in.

“I admire her spirit,” Simon admitted, moving forward until he was standing less than a foot from the glass. His gaze sharpened momentarily as he took in the vegetation in the paddock, searching for the occupant.

A reverberating thud echoed in the platform, followed by another, and Simon realised the animal was moving. The deep vibrations in his chest reminded him of the time he’d visited the staff-area of Tyrannosaur Kingdom. It made the hairs on his neck stand on end and his heart rate pick up.

And then he saw her.

She was splendid. Beautiful. Magnificent.

_She was terrifying._

He could feel Claire stood just behind him, her breaths shallow and soft. Large amber eyes observed them, cold and sharp and Simon was struck by the sudden feeling of pure rage. It settled in the pit of his stomach and he swallowed reflexively. He focused on his breathing and after a long moment he felt calmer and less… angry?

Claire let out a sharp breath behind him as the animal opened her mouth and  _roared_.

The entire platform rattled with the immensity of it, the guard jumping to his feet and scrambling back, as far from the window as possible.

Simon automatically stepped back and reached out to grasp Claire’s arm.

A loud hissing sound and a sudden flash of light out the corner of his eye had Masrani looking at the security desk. The screens were smoking, one of them had gone black and he saw it spark again before bursting into flames.

As suddenly as the roar had begun, it ended. Silence reigned in the platform. The dinosaur stood outside, observing them, watching them, figuring them out.

The guard, having recovered some form of his wits—evidently the animal did this often enough that it surprised the guard but didn’t keep him stuck for long—had grabbed a small, emergency fire extinguisher and was putting out the flames.

Claire’s arm was shaking in his grasp and Simon, without even thinking about it, turned away from the animal and led Claire out of the observation room, out into the bright sun and humid heat of the tropics.

His heart was pounding in his chest and Simon couldn’t help but smile in elation and relief. He hadn’t been eaten. He’d survived meeting an immense, impossible predator for the first time, and he had been  _terrified_.

The public were going to  _love_   _her_.


	5. The Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> White skin. Large teeth. A roar so loud it shook his bones. Fiery eyes burning with rage and hunger.

Dark clouds rolled overhead, their appearance mirroring the incandescent rage of the animal caged beneath them. Loud rumbles parried with snorts and growls of impatience and confusion. The sky reflected how the animal felt, how it was, what it wanted to do.

She paced.

Less than 30 metres to cross, covered in seconds. She was in a container with the lid off. The only change in her cage was the breeze that shot down from the ever-growing walls that contained her. But it was only her body they held. Her mind was her own.

She didn’t know where she was or why she was. Didn’t know the what or the how. Had no frame of reference beside the one she built. It was limited. Imperfect.

But it was her own.

Her body was powerful, large and made for hunting. Her mind was sharp and fast, quick to make decisions. She was born a predator but had no prey. Had no mate. No equal.

But she had awareness.

The possibility of an equal. Of equals. Not in size but in mind. Their thoughts were sharp and jagged, reflecting her own instinctive desires. They appealed to her, but she didn’t appeal to them.

Fire burned in her, each flame licking the walls of her stomach, climbing up her throat and escaping her jaws as roars and screeches.

 _‘Answer me!_ ’ They said.

‘ _Follow me!_ ’ They commanded.

‘ _Join me!_ ’ They plead.

But silence was her response and it drove her further still. To madness and confusion, fear and grief and pain. She would have them. She could not be without them.

She would find a way.

She. Would. Find. A. Way.

 

* * *

 

“I want to see the Mosasaur show!” Gray commanded, looking up at his older brother in the bright noon sunlight with an imploring look. “Please Zach! It’s going to start soon!”

Zach sighed. He didn’t care what Gray wanted, not really. He was angry and resentful and irritated with his aunt and his mom and his dad. He was at war with the world and he was taking it all out on Gray because his brother was the  _only one there._

“I don’t care!” Zach snapped, glaring at his brother in annoyance, his ire faltering and fizzing out as he looked down at the hurt eyes of his little brother.

God. What was he  _doing?_  Gray was a kid. His kid brother! It wasn’t Gray’s fault their parents were ruining everything. It wasn’t Gray’s fault but he was taking it all out on him anyway. God what kind of brother was he?

“Hey,” Zach started again, his voice gentler as he reached out a hand towards his brother.

Gray flinched and moved away, eyes sparkling with tears and hurt and Zach felt even worse than he had before. Self-loathing burned in him and Zach dropped his hand clenching it into a fist by his side.

Before he could even begin to apologise Gray turned and bolted, disappearing into the crowd.

“Gray!” Zach cried, pushing and shoving his way through the crowd, searching for his brother. “GRAY!”

Shit.

Looking around frantically, Zach tried to think of where his brother would go. Maybe he’d try to go see the Mosasaur show on his own? God, he hoped so. The park staff always kept an eye on kids in theme parks, and even if Gray was angry with him, his brother couldn’t see the show without him because of regulations.

Unless he snuck in with someone…

Shit.

Weaving through the throngs of visitors, shoving people aside when he needed to, Zach made his way to the entrance to the Mosasaur tank and prayed to every deity his high school religious studies class ever discussed that his brother was there.

“Gray!” He cried again, spotting a familiar pile of fluffy, sandy hair beside the tour guide outside the tank. “Gray!”

He cleared the crowd and all but threw himself at his brother, collapsing onto his knees and gripping Gray’s shoulders in his hands.

“What the hell Gray! Why did you run off!? What were you thinking!?” Zach all but shouted at his brother, not waiting for an answer before he pulled into a hug. “God Gray, you’re my brother and I know I’m an asshole but seriously, don’t run off on me please. I was so worried!”

“Why?” Gray’s voice was muffled by Zach’s shoulder and he pulled back a little to look at his brother’s face.

“What?” Zach frowned at his brother in confusion.

“Why were you worried? You’re always mean to me, telling me to shut up and that I’m such a baby and you’re always so angry at everything and you’re always taking it out on me and it’s NOT MY FAULT!” Gray cried, tears running down his face as he stared at his brother. “IT’S NOT MY FAULT ZACH!”

Shit. God, he was such a fuck up.

“Damn Gray I’m sorry,” Zach hugged him again, feeling his brother trembling in his arms. “I’m just so angry at mom and dad and aunt Claire and I just can’t help it. I shouldn’t be taking it all out on you and I know I’m a jerk for it. I shouldn’t be. It’s not your fault, none of it is. This is me, Gray. This is on me.”

He felt Gray grip on his back tighten and he suppressed the urge to start crying himself.

“Do you wanna see a shark get eaten then Gray? I hear it’s pretty epic,” Zach asked, trying to sound casual and not get his hopes up. “Someone told me that a Mosasaur is a dinosaur and have a thing for sharks.”

“Marine animals,” Gray mumbled as he pulled away from his brother. “Mosasaurs’ are ancient marine animals, not dinosaurs. They just lived around the same time.”

Zach smiled softly. “Oh, I thought they were dinosaurs. Guess I was wrong. Wanna tell me why they’re not while we’re waiting for the show to start?”

Gray looked at his brother, uncertainty in his eyes, and Zach just waited. Finally, Gray nodded and Zach’s shoulders relaxed. He’d hurt his brother and nearly lost him in the park, he would be damned if he screwed up again with his little brother.

 

* * *

 

There was the faint sound of rumbling outside, a small flash of light that lit up the inside of the trailer before it plunged back into darkness.

In the bedroom at the back of the trailer Owen tossed and turned in his sleep. His body was slick with sweat and his brow creased. He wasn’t having a good night.

Flashes of rage and fury, confusion and pain lanced through his mind, his body tensing and curling up on itself instinctively. A high-pitched whine escaped from his throat and his hands clutched at the sheets beneath his body.

A roar, loud enough to rival the Rex’s, had him arching onto his back and letting out a howl. He collapsed back on the bed and rolled back into a tight ball, his hands gripping his head, claws cutting into the soft flesh of his temples, blood rolling down across his brow.

He woke up slowly. Not quick like in the movies when someone has a strange dream. It was more like he was fighting off the effects of a sedative.

Instinct was screaming at him to move, to run, to get away, to  _fight._  But his body was weak and lethargic. Opening his eyes, it took him a moment to acclimatise to the darkness and he sat up slowly, swallowing a hiss of pain as he looked down at his hands and smelt the tang of iron.

Blood.

He’d hurt himself.

Rising carefully, aware that he was tired and disorientated, Owen reached over and flipped on the light, blinking a few times to get rid of the dots of light flitting about his vision. He moved to the small bathroom attached to his bedroom, clicking on the small light in there as well.

Standing in front of the mirror Owen grimaced at himself. His temples were cut and bloody, obviously from his claws, and his eyes looked haunted and hollow. Sighing he turned the tap on and started washing the blood off his hands and head, not bothered by the cuts. They’d heal in a few minutes anyway.

He pulled off the t-shirt he’d slept in, tossing it on the hamper by the tiny shower, aware it was probably a lost cause with all the blood on it. That was the fourth one this month.

Turning off the light and leaving the bathroom, Owen made his way to the little kitchenette. He pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniel’s from the cupboard over the sink and picked up a glass off the drainer before sitting at the small table opposite the kitchenette.

He poured a generous amount of the amber liquid into the glass and drank it in one gulp. This was the fourth time this month that he’d woken up in the middle of the night, sweaty and bloody, and he didn’t know why.

It bothered him.

It worried him.

Nightmares weren’t uncommon for Owen, he’d been in the NAVY after all and he’s seen some nasty stuff. Done some nasty stuff too. But he didn’t usually react like this, tearing at himself and whimpering in distress in the dead of night.

No. He hadn’t done that since the first time he’d shifted and his grandfather had woken up to him screaming in terror at something he couldn’t fight.

Snatches of the nightmare still remained and Owen poured himself another glass as he mulled them over.

White skin. Large teeth. A roar so loud it shook his bones. Fiery eyes burning with rage and hunger.

It was strange and unknown and Owen didn’t like it. Every time he’d had this dream he’d pushed it back, pulling himself back to consciousness, howling and screeching like he was an animal in pain and not a human. It scared him just how feral he was when he was in the throes of these nightmares.

It wasn’t normal.

But the thing that worried Owen the most was how it didn’t  _feel_  like a dream. Didn’t even feel like a nightmare. It felt like it was real. Like he was really  _there._  Like he was roaring himself. Like _his_ eyes that were burning with rage and hunger and hatred. Like _his_ teeth that were being bared at a glass window opposite.

It felt like he was in a cage and he wanted out.

It gave him a bad feeling in his gut, his intestines twisting and turning as his heart sped up and his lungs seized and stuttered in his chest. He didn’t know what it was, but it scared the shit out of him and he wanted it to stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm posting this a day early since I've managed to get it done today (I like beating a deadline). The next chapter will be soon, maybe not Tuesday (it could be before or after I'm honestly not sure). I'm going to be rewatching Jurassic World soon so I can reacquaint myself with the movie and then I'll be rearing to go with the rest of the story!  
> Remember, kudos and comments are the lifeblood of writers (myself included)! :D


	6. The Lab

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had been twenty-five years since the first park, since the disaster. Since he’d lost several good friends and colleagues to his own creation. Monsters that he’d created. He couldn’t forget it. Saw bloody smiles, grimaces of pain, torn flesh and heard shrieking calls every time he shut his eyes at night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason I decided to give you some Henry Wu feels. Enjoy!

The hustle and bustle in the labs was loud enough to distract Henry Wu, chief geneticist at Jurassic World, from his work. Hands hovering over his keyboard, Wu watched silently as visitors moseyed along the carefully designed path of transparent, reinforced glass routes through the lab.

Henry didn’t usually bother with the public lab, personally finding it too loud, busy and easy to get distracted in. He still couldn’t forgive the wailing child some couple had brought with them that had screamed right next to his work station and caused him to delete a month’s worth of work.

However, Masrani Global had somehow wrangled it into their contracts that all members of the research department had to do at least one fortnightly shift in the public lab—and it didn’t matter what their position was, as Henry had found out when he’d tried to get out of the clause.

Suppressing the urge to sigh, Wu surveyed the latest tour group to have distracted him from his work. The first one of the day had nearly made him want to drown in his coffee cup and the ones after it hadn’t been much better. This one was smaller but no less annoying. Most of them looked to be in their late teens, obviously experiencing freedom from parental guidance for the first time on a vacation. All their hormones and rebellious instincts no longer curbed by the practical reasoning of their elders.

Oh, what Henry wouldn’t do for them to leave, taking their screeching and laughter and general immaturity with them.

Not all the group were so irritating though. Fortunately.

Wu spotted a young teen, no parents around so he was either playing hooky or– ah no, an older brother stood just behind him trying to not look so interested in the lab but failing to hide the surprise and awe from his eyes. The younger one was almost attached to the glass, hands splayed on the wall separating the group from the lab, his eyes focused intently on the incubator in the middle of the room.

The incubator was purely for the public and had no viable eggs in it long term, but sometimes park management would ‘suggest’ they put a few, ready to hatch, eggs in it to wow the guests. Wu always resisted but usually park management got their way.

The young kid looked like he was in heaven, eyes wide as he stared at the incubator, muttering something or other—probably ‘I wish I had a dinosaur!’ or something equally vapid and annoying—but Henry couldn’t help but feel a smile starting to form on his face, one he ruthlessly suppressed.

Sometimes he looked at the kids coming to the park, wondering through the labs, staring at the scientists and the machines with open-eyed wonder and amazement, and Henry just wanted to laugh. They were inspiring the next generations of scientists, geneticists and veterinarians, with what they were doing. And he wouldn’t deny that it felt good to know that. To know that his work was inspiring.

But this kid. This kid seemed strangely focused on the eggs in the incubator, ignorant to the rest of the lab and it made Henry’s stomach twist and wrap around itself, flailing like a fish in a net. The single-minded focus on the dinosaur egg—a triceratops if Henry recalled correctly, which he did because he was the one who’d put it there—that the kid had was unsettling. It pulled at Henry’s memories, forcing him to recall his own wonder, his own reaction to seeing a real-life dinosaur egg for the first time.

The smiles and laughter, the cheers of success, at what they’d successfully created. The life that their monitors picked up on inside. God, he remembered the joy they’d felt all those years ago.

It felt like his jumper was choking him, too tight for his frame and he pulled in a ragged breath, quiet and unheard in the still noisy lab. His skin sparked and tingled, felt like it was being caressed by cold hands, flittering softly across his face and leaving his skin clammy.

His eyes slipped shut, burning like someone had sprayed acid in them, itching and aching. He brought up a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose, finger and thumb digging into flesh and skin, pressing deeper and harder as though he could dig out the irritant. Long, measured breaths, his other hand clenched on the table top beside his keyboard.

Inhale. Hold ten seconds. Exhale. Repeat.

He came back to silence, the only sound his breathing, now soft and steady, his jumper no longer strangling him. Opening his eyes, Henry blinked a few times, ignoring the instinctive need to rub them, and relaxed his clenched fist.

He felt like an exposed nerve, raw and vulnerable.

It had been twenty-five years since the first park, since the disaster. Since he’d lost several good friends and colleagues to his own creation. Monsters that he’d created. He couldn’t forget it. Saw bloody smiles, grimaces of pain, torn flesh and heard shrieking calls every time he shut his eyes at night.

He’d learned to live with the memories but sometimes they came suddenly and all he could do was breath and force himself through them.

The raptors had been so  _vicious._  He remembered the tests they’d run on the first batch, how they’d lost a worker to a young juvenile because he’d turned his back. He remembered how they’d learnt the hard way how high they could jump, how well they could solve problems, work together to escape. He remembered being too caught up in the wonder of creating, of being God, to recall that every action has an equal reaction.

He’d made carnivores, apex predators and they were put on display. Action.

They’d escaped and massacred every human being on the island. Reaction.

The instincts of predators can’t be ignored. You can’t just expect an animal to follow a human, to sit back and wait for food like a pet. Instinct was too strong for apex predators and they’d forgotten that.  _He’d_  forgotten that.

And people had died as a result.

They’d had no idea, no god damned idea, just what they were making, how deadly the dinosaurs they’d cobbled together from incomplete DNA and scraps of amphibian DNA really were. But they’d learned the hard way. And now Henry was helping to repeat old mistakes.

Jurassic Park had no truly effective contingency plan to control the dinosaurs—the lysine contingency had been a joke, a way of calming investors and pretending they had control (how could they though, predators ate prey, prey ate plants, lysine was in some plants, it wasn’t that difficult to figure out). Jurassic World was no better.

The Asset Containment Unit had guns and jeeps and state-of-the-art technology, but none of that mattered when you were up against a pack of raptors, a rex, or a water-dwelling hunter. The only way to control dinosaurs, to make sure the past was never repeated, was Henry’s responsibility.

DNA.

It all came down to DNA. He had to find a way to waylay the instincts of predators, of the very dinosaurs the public adored but would be devoured by in an instant should the opportunity arise. Henry had to make them  _safe._  Controllable.

For the sake of those who’d died. For the sake of his own pride.

To make up for mistakes made in his youth.

If he wasn’t able to do it, no one could, and they would be doomed to repeat the past.

Some part of Henry wondered if they hadn’t already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I confess, this was a filler chapter. I've been incredibly distracted this week so I hadn't actually written the next chapter. So I panicked and spat this out. Hopefully you liked it anyway! Please comment and tell me what you think. I promise we'll get back to Owen and co in the next chapter - I fully intend to get on with the plot! :)


	7. The Telepath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a telepath was dangerous. You didn't want to be one. He certainly didn't and he'd had no idea why he was suddenly hearing thoughts that his mom and dad never said, felt their fear and concern, dislike (hatred really) of his mutant status. That's not the sort of thing a kid barely in his teens needs to know his parents think of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY I HAVEN'T UPDATED THIS IN A WHILE! I'VE BEEN MAD BUSY WITH UNI AND PERSONAL LIFE! FORGIVE ME!!
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is pretty long to make up for my absence. It's pretty much just backstory to Owen. And it has plenty of feels. I hope you like it and, as always, please comment and kudos telling me what you think!  
> Comments sustain me :)

2012:

Owen sighed as he stepped out of his little caravan. His bungalow hadn’t been built yet, something to do with the ground not being suitable, so he was stuck in the tiny little caravan he’s brought with him filled with knick-knacks from around the world that he’d collected over the years. A shelf of books with strange titles and unusual topics stood by the bed and, on a whim, he’d grabbed one of his most recent purchases.

Meetings were boring and today’s meeting was probably going to be even worse. Board members, scientists, business investors. The whole shebang was going to be there for the final decision of making his girls an attraction.

Waiting for a decision was going to be the worst part, hence the book. Personally, after having spent time with his girls, teaching them, watching them grow and learn, Owen honestly felt like they wouldn’t be good as an attraction. Humans watching them all the time wouldn’t be conductive to their mental or emotional health. His girls weren’t like the Rex, or the Mosasaur. They were high maintenance in a way the big predators could never be. Smart and agile, attentive and problem-solvers, the constant exposure to humans would instil in them a knowledge that humans were prey and easy pickings.

But the board wanted a return from their ‘investment’. Masrani honestly didn’t care for the cost of caring for the animals, he literally cared about the animals not the money. Unfortunately, the rest of his company, and investors, didn’t agree. So here Owen was, standing on the steps to his caravan, looking at the early morning sunlight beating down on the dirt track heading into the jungle, silently contemplating whether or not it was worth even turning up.

They wouldn’t listen to him, not any more than they already had. They had reports from vets, scientists and rights activists galore, the word of a simple trainer meant nothing to them in the grand scheme of things—regardless of the fact he had degrees coming out of his ass and experience with some gruesome shit.

Gripping the book in his hand Owen sighed deeply, letting his shoulders slump and his body relax. The tension running out of it and becoming lax and showcasing that, just because he was a feral, he was still just a guy who was tired of shit. God he’d love to just up and disappear into the jungle, hide in the trees and free himself of all responsibility. It’d be heaven.

He’d go mad after a few weeks though, that he knew for certain. Not that he wouldn’t go mad now. The island was constantly full of people, thousands upon thousands of visitors every day, each one full of wonder or curiosity, boredom or anger, arrogance or pride, and Owen felt it keenly. No matter how far he was from the resort he could feel them, the jumbled masses full of so much feeling and so many vapid thoughts. He’d hiked to the other side of the island once, camp gear in hand, and he’d settled down near a little beach in a small cove. He’d still heard their minds several miles away. It was... tiring.

Part of him cursed it, this ability to hear what was never said, what was felt but never expressed, because his dreams were always full of thoughts and memories of other people. As a kid, it had been hell handling it without anyone noticing. Being a telepath was dangerous. You didn’t want to be one. He certainly didn’t and he’d had no idea why he was suddenly hearing thoughts that his mom and dad never said, felt their fear and concern, dislike (hatred really) of his mutant status. That’s not the sort of thing a kid barely in his teens needs to know his parents think of him.

He figured out in the end. Literally. 

 

* * *

 

1991:

“It’s hard sometimes,” Naomi said, her voice soft and tender, hair blowing in the light breeze that carried her words away if he didn’t lean closer to hear.

“What is? Being a mutant?” Owen asked, curious, wondering if she meant something else.

“No. I’m fine with being a mutant,” She shook her head, the colour of her hair vivid and attention-grabbing, as were her eyes—both a luminous shade of lilac, Owen found himself fascinated by the way her eyes sparked and her hair shimmered in the light of the sun shining down in the middle of summer.

“Then what? Do you not like your mutation? Because I really like your hair,” Owen asked innocently.

“My hair is  _because_  of my mutation,” Naomi replied, scuffing the ground with her shoe. “You know what Miss Eskdale said about really powerful mutants sometimes looking different? Like having different things like eye colour and height and hair and even scars?”

“Yeah,” Owen nodded, he remembered their teacher going on about super-powerful mutants in the past who couldn’t control their abilities and had to be killed, she had made him uncomfortable with how happy she’d seemed about the prospect. “But she also said that those mutants were evil and I think she’s wrong. Just because you’re powerful doesn’t make you evil. Same for if you can’t control your powers.”

Naomi blushed and looked shyly at Owen whose face was pulled into a frown. “I thought the same really but sometimes a power can be dangerous and I guess...”

“You think you’re dangerous?” Owen stated bluntly, staring hard at his friend, noticing how she hunched in on herself at the question. “No way. You’re not dangerous. No matter what you can do it’s nothing compared to wanting to kill someone because they’re too close to you.”

Owen glanced away from her, as Naomi looked at him in surprise. “You’ve felt like that?”

“Sometimes yeah,” Owen pulled some strands of grass violently from the earth, tearing them in his hand, noticing that his claws had grown again. He needed to not do that! It wasn’t his fault he was a freak!

“You’re not a freak,” Naomi declared, voice sharp with anger. “Not any more than I am at least Owen!”

Owen’s head whipped around, his eyes glinting in surprise, the irises turning a sharp, bright almost neon green. “How did- wait!”

She seemed to realise what she’d done and instantly Owen could see his friend starting to retreat from him, her body tensing as she prepared herself to run.

“You’re a telepath. That’s why you think you’re dangerous,” Owen breathed out, surprised and amazed. There were few telepaths that retained their powers nowadays, most of them were instantly hit with the gene-therapy to weaken or remove their telepathic abilities.

“I am.” Naomi answered, her lips barely moving and her words so quiet Owen thought she’d spoken to him telepathically for a moment. “I wouldn’t do that! Ever!”

“Okay sorry, sorry!” Owen exclaimed, holding up his hands. “It’s just you were really quiet!”

A lame explanation really, but it was the truth.

Never had the truth sounded so stupidly pathetic to him in his life.

“You know, I’m not bothered about your power,” at the dubious look she shot him Owen corrected. “Well I am, but only because it’s cool and rare and I’m seriously impressed. But I’m not scared of it, or you.”

“Really?” She sounded so vulnerable, so unsure Owen couldn’t help but reach out and hug her, his friend of five years, the girl who’d watched him turn feral and chase off the boys bullying her in the park without an ounce of fear. The girl who’d then calmly let him stare at her and sniff her for a good five minutes before he calmed down enough to ‘de-claw’ himself.

“Really. You’re my friend. I’m not gonna run screaming just ‘cause you can hear my thoughts. Might run screaming if you ever tell other people though,” Owen quipped, grinning as Naomi huffed a reluctant laugh at his joke. “You do realise what this means though?”

She pulled back, her hands resting in Owen’s own. “What?”

Owen grinned. “We can totally cheat on next week’s pop quiz!”

“Owen!” Naomi exclaimed, hitting him lightly on the arm. “I’m not going to help you cheat!”

“Hey! I was offering to help  _you_  cheat but if you’d rather not…” Owen trailed off, his grin widening as Naomi rolled her eyes at him.

 

* * *

 

1997:

“Well that class was a bust!” Owen exclaimed as he collapsed on the grass beside his long-time friend who looked up at him. “The professor literally picked on me the entire time, I thought I was being interrogated! It’s not like I did anything to deserve it either! The man is impossible to deal with!”

“You’re impossible,” Naomi sighed, smiling as Owen mimed being shot in the chest and toppled backwards to lie prone on the grass. “And dramatic.”

“I’ll have you know I am nothing of the sort thank you very much. I am perfectly normal and average and not even remotely dramatic, you big fibber you,” Owen quipped, spontaneously alive again after his mimed death.

“And I’m secretly the President,” Naomi deadpanned, eyes bright with amusement and joy.

“Wow Mr President, you look so nice with your hair all curly like that,” Owen joked, enjoying the way Naomi blushed and glanced away. “Especially when you blush, it makes you look like a piece of art.”

“Really?” Naomi asked, her voice again soft and unsure and Owen realised that his friend really didn’t know if he was being serious or not.

“Of course. You light up like the sun when you smile, and when you laugh at something it makes everyone else laugh because you look so happy people can’t help but be happy as well,” Owen replied sombrely, his voice firm and sure as he stared into Naomi’s eyes. “You have this draw to yourself that just… amazes people. It’s impossible to ignore you, every time you enter a room everyone looks at you and just stop. You’re like a star. Impossible.”

 _‘I can continue for hours just describing you ‘Omi if you want.’_  Owen thought, adding a strong sense of love and affection for his friend.  _’There’s so much I can say about how amazing you are, how strong and beautiful and powerful and great and fantastic. I could write songs about you that would amaze people with how badly I sing them but they’d love them anyway because the topic would be something to love. You.’_

_‘Owen…’_

“You’re my best friend ‘Omi. Have been for years, since we first met as kids in that park where I literally became a territorial prick,” Owen stated, not letting his friend look away from his burning gaze. He knew his eyes were shining that almost neon green again and it’d get attention from people but he didn’t care.

“Owen…” Naomi breathed, looking at him with shining eyes, the lilac of her irises almost glowing and glittering with unshed tears. Owen could feel how much his words, and thoughts, affected her, could feel the emotions burning within her and he leaned forward, brushing her lips with his own chastely.

He smiled at her, his eyes returning slowly to their usual blue-green blend and he gave her a soft smile. “It’s okay ‘Omi. You don’t need to give more than you can. I’ll never push for more than you want to give. And I’ll burn the world for you if you asked me to.”

_‘Promise?’_

_‘I promise.’_

 

* * *

 

1998:

There was a loud knocking at the door, shocking Owen awake and he rolled over with a groan that turned into a keening whimper. The knocking continued, thumping becoming louder as he lay there. A full minute passed and whoever was on the other side didn’t even pause and Owen realised he’d have to get up and chase them away.

Heaving himself from his bed, hair sticking up and claws leaving long gouges in the bedding, Owen moved to the door of his small dorm room. He could smell the person on the other side, vaguely recognised the scent as ‘friendly’ but it was the crashing thoughts and emotions that he recognised more readily.

“Hello to you, too Scott,” Owen muttered as he pulled open the door and caught the hand that had been moving to hit the door easily at the same time. “To what do I owe the pleasure of you visiting?”

“You asshole,” Scott growled, wrenching his hand from Owen’s grip. “You fucking asshole!”

“You’ve already said that,” Owen stared at the slightly shorter man stood on the threshold to his room. “What do you want?”

_‘I already know but you don’t know that.’_

“Her funeral was two days ago,” Scott all-but roared at Owen, anger bursting forth and hitting Owen full on. He pulled back, moving back from the door and turning away instinctively to hide from Scott the effect his emotions had on him. “You didn’t even show you fucking bastard!”

Owen clenched his hand, moving away from his door, not even bothering to watch Scott stalk into his room and slam the door behind him like he owned the place. Like he wasn’t in Owen’s  _territory._

“Just because you didn’t see me doesn’t mean I wasn’t there,” Owen near-whispered, his other hand resting on his forehead as he stood beside the kitchen sink. “It wasn’t a good idea for me to be near people right now.”

“Bullshit!” Scott challenged, moving to stand behind Owen. “That’s bullshit Owen and you know it!”

Owen didn’t answer, too busy trying to just make his head stop spinning and pounding. Scott reached out and grabbed Owen’s arm, pulling sharply and causing Owen to spin around.

He let out a surprised cry that was cut off as Owen reacted. The hand that had been on his forehead was wrapped around Scott’s vulnerable throat, the claws cutting into the flesh. His other hand gripped Scott’s own arm, the one he’d raised instinctively to grip at the hand around his throat, the grip bruising and drawing a whimper from the other man.

Owen growled deep in his throat, eyes burning red as he pushed Scott until he was up against the wall, Owen’s body pinning him in place. He could feel his fangs pressing against the flesh of his lip but Owen didn’t care, pulling back his lips to snarl deeply at the other man who cowered, fear rolling off him in waves.

_‘Oh god I’m going to die!’_

Owen threw himself away, his claws coming away bloody, landing in a heap against the opposite wall, chest heaving as he pulled in lungful’s of air. Scott slid to the ground, eyes wide and pupils blown as he stared at Owen’s shaking form on the other side of the room.

Neither of them spoke for a long time, both trying to deal with what had happened, before Owen’s voice, hoarse and dry reached Scott’s ears. “Told you it wasn’t a good idea for me to be near people right now.”

“Fucking hell,” Scott breathed. “Jesus fuck! Holy shit! Motherfucking fucknuggets!”

Owen wanted to laugh at Scott, the saintly son, who’d never done a damned dangerous thing in his life swearing so profusely. But he couldn’t find the energy, didn’t have it in him anymore to laugh. He hurt too much.

“I was on the hill,” Owen confessed, his voice still hoarse as he stared at his hands, at the blood on his claws that refused to recede. “You picked a good spot. She would have liked it.”

“I’m sorry,” Scott said, his words echoed by his thoughts. “I- I guess- well I guess I don’t really know what it’s like for you.”

“As a mutant or as the person who loved her more than I do anything else?” Owen couldn’t help but ask, feeling Scott’s hesitation and knowing what he’d meant. “Of course.” He muttered, his voice too quiet for Scott to hear.

“Both. You’re a feral… so instincts are harder for you to handle than most. And you… you really loved her,” Scott explained, his words halting and unsure, uncertain as to whether he’d trigger a feral rage.

He wouldn’t. Owen knew that. He hadn’t had a rage in weeks. Not since-

“I do. I really do,” Owen whispered, ragged and broken as he bunched his hands into fists, claws digging into the palms of his hands and drawing blood. He focused on the pain, used it to ground himself, to anchor him. He couldn’t use love anymore. It hurt too much, made him too volatile. Pain. Anger. Hate. They’d work better. He’d never stop feeling those and they already hurt so it didn’t unbalance him.

“I said I’d burn the world if she asked me to,” Owen confessed, catching Scott’s attention which had been returning to his own wounds. “I wish she had.”

Scott was silent for a long moment. “So do I.”

 

* * *

 

2012:

_‘Naomi.’_

God just thinking her name hurt. It had been over ten years and it still hurt to just think about her. He remembered how she’d looked that day, how happy she’d been with her newly acquired PhD, full of hope and joy for the future.

He remembered what had happened, what had taken her from him. Those bastards. _Cowards._ Caught her unawares and he hadn’t been there. Hadn’t been able to protect her, to help her. They’d known she was a mutant, decided that was more than enough reason to kill her. Had planned in advance, telepathy blocking tech—impossible to buy commercially unless you were in a security firm.

He’d only known when he felt her pain, heard her scream in his ears even though she was miles away, experienced the same terror and agony as they’d done things to her. He’d howled, screeched in response, barrelled out of his room and across the city as fast as he could, claws out, teeth bared, eyes shining. Ignorant of every panicked cry and shocked thought from the people he flew past, the sound of police following him as people called about a feral in a rage.

He’d felt it when she’d died. When they’do–

The police had found him holding her body, clutching it and weeping, keening quietly as he’d stroked her bloodied face, her dirty hair. They didn’t try and make him let go, just tranqued him and locked him in a room to burn out his rage.

He’d come out raw, tender and like an exposed nerve. But he was in control, kept his claws in, his fangs hidden, eyes dull. Hadn’t even hesitated to have a tag put on so they could track him in case he went into another rage in the following month. It didn’t matter to him.

She was dead. And the bastards who’d killed her  _weren’t._

But they soon were. A month and a half after he’d found them, remembered their scent and the thoughts that Naomi had managed to tear out of them through the blocker. Caught each of them and left nothing left. He left one alive, but only because he hadn’t been able to physically reach him.

But Naomi had given him a gift in a way, neither of them knew how it had happened but Owen had ended up just as telepathic as Naomi. It had been a shock, and one hell of an adjustment period but he’d managed it. And he’d used it on the one who’d planned it, who had picked her out. A fitting punishment.

Shaking his head mentally Owen refocused his attention on the present, namely that his girls’ futures were going to be decided today. He really hoped they would decide to keep the program running—he honestly didn’t know what he’d do if they decided to terminate it (probably run away with his girls to Sorna… God he was mad!). If they decided that his girls would become attractions for the Park he’d have to deal, but if they decided to keep things as they were he’d honestly kiss a monkey, or Blue. Blue was nicer.


	8. The Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never enter the paddock of a giant predatory dinosaur. Just. Don't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there are any grammar/spelling mistakes then my only defense is that I've got a new phone and wrote this entirely on it. So yeah...

Being accosted by Claire Dearing outside his little bungalow wasn’t what Owen had been expecting when he’d been working on his poor bike in the early afternoon sun. The temperature was a scorching 37 degrees and only years of travelling all over the world allowed Owen to remain functional in the sweltering heat. That and the cracking breeze over the lake he’d demanded his place be built by.

Masrani was far too accommodating towards him and part of Owen was still suspicious of the man. Who would calmly sit there while Owen demanded a place away from literally everyone else and then, just as calmly, agree? It was weird and Owen didn’t trust it.

He had a feeling that Masrani knew more about him than he should and it always made Owen uncomfortable to be around the man for a prolonged amount of time. The way he watched him made him think he was one of the animals on the island being watched by an avid audience.

Even so, he was thankful the man listened to him since it gave him a muchneeded distance from the human inhabitants of the park—even if the distance was more symbolic than anything it still helped. It allowed him to look at the animals on the island with greater detail and with no worry than anyone would stumble upon him without him being aware of their approach long before they showed up at his door.

When he was especially tired the feel of the herbivores was relaxing—to a degree. They were large, hulking beasts who moved slowly, casually sedate in their existence. But sometimes they’d be alert and sharp, focus and attention a fine blade that set his senses on high alert looking for a threat that didn’t exist to him.

The predators on the island were a mixed bag. Some, like the Mosasaur weren’t an issue most of the time—she dwelt deep in the lagoon most of the time, unconcerned with much. Others.... others were a bit more difficult to handle.

The T-Rex was old, an aged queen with wisdom and raw power. She wasn’t smart but she was quick. Good at handling change and dealing with a challenge. A lot of the time she’d appear to be a silent shadow on the edges of his mind, watchful and waiting, like she was observing prey and planning when to strike. It was... difficult for him to separate that predatory intent from himself whenever he accidentally slipped under it. Made him want the go out into the jungle and tear flesh. Never a good thing for a feral at the best of times.

But his girls. Oh, his girls. They were a maelstrom of intent and power and grace and deadly ability. They saw everything and forgot nothing. Learnt every moment of the day and contemplated every second of the night in their sleep. A powerful challenge to anyone who could feel a mind. An impossible temptation to a feral mutant with a side-order of telepathy.

He loved the feel of their minds. Adored how cold and logical they could be. How emotive and protective of one another they were. How they would react to anyone or anything that threatened them and their autonomy.

He loved them the way one loves an animal that’s their only companion, their support base. They were everything to him at the same time as being an abstract concept to him. They weren’t like him, he knew that, but they were like him at the same time because they reacted to him on a level far beyond anyone or anything else.

It was instinct. Pure and simple instinct.

They were his. He was theirs. And anyone who tried to change that was a threat that needed taking out.

“Mr Grady,” Claire’s voice was loud to his sensitive ears but Owen didn’t let it bother him.  Most people never realised just how sharp a ferals senses could be. It was ignorance borne out of misunderstanding not contempt. At least, not for Claire.

“Owen,” He corrected for what felt like the hundredth time. Maybe it had been, he hadn’t kept count. The slight twitch of her lips and the way her eyes tightened against the desire to roll them told Owen more than her repeating his name back to him.

“We have a new attraction and mister Masrani wants you to look at,” Claire rushed out, picking her way delicately over to where he was standing, rag in hand cleaning the oil off his fingers.

“Why me? I work with raptors,” Owen pointed out, blunt and to the point. Their flirting could wait. Something was niggling at him.

There were other ferals on the island. Others who worked with predators and we a lot more sociable than Owen. So why did Masrani want  _him_  of all people to come look at his newest toy?

It wasn’t more raptors, was it? Ones who would jump through hoops for the entertainment of stupid ass people with no understanding of just what they were cheering at. God, he hoped not.

“I don’t know. Mister Masrani just told me I had to get you to look at the enclosure and determine whether or not it’s feasible,” Claire replied, her shoulders tensing showing her obvious frustration at Owen’s questions and at her own lack of knowledge. It spoke of something she couldn’t control and if there was one thing Owen knew about Claire it was this: she needed control.

“Can the animal escape? Or has it tried in the past? Predator? Wait don’t answer that, of course it is,” Owen sighed and rubbed his forehead, not noticing the single streak of black oil that ended up above his left eye. It made Claire’s mouth twitch up in an aborted smile.

“It has tried but the walls have been heightened and the doors reinforced,” Claire explained calmly. “Will you please just look? If you can determine the paddock is sufficient we can continue on schedule which is what we need to do.”

Owen stared at Claire, his face as blank as he could make it. Seriously?  _That’s_  what she cared about? Her schedule! What about if the animal injured itself or someone else trying to escape? What about if it  _did_  escape? What if Owen determined what they had was good enough and he was  _wrong?_

“Fine,” Owen bit out, his voice flat and void of inflection. If he ranted at Claire she’d rant back and they’d just end up in an argument that would end up with them both storming off and nothing getting done. He was mature enough to control himself. Just.

“Thank you,” Claire really did seem thankful, relieved almost, that he hadn’t tried to argue any further. It made him feel guilty because he could smell the stress in her. She was not having a good day and it showed clearly to him. Maybe not to others though, others who didn’t see anything more to Claire than her body and her ‘bitchy’ personality. Owen liked to think he knew better.

Even if he wasn’t over the itinerary thing.

 

* * *

 

The ride to the paddock was silent, both Owen and Claire in their own thoughts as Claire drove through the restricted section to their destination.

Owen watched as the greenery of the jungle flashed past them outside, his mind a whirlwind of feelings. His girls were in their paddock. He could feel them and their semi-alert pacing around the paddocks perimeter. They knew something was up. Knew Owen was going somewhere dangerous and they weren’t happy about being left behind.

He could feel the torrent of thoughts from Claire but he didn’t pry, able to shield himself from the thoughts of others if not his awareness of them. He could still sense her stress and unease, her concern over so many different things. It made his head spin to focus on her because how could she function like that? How could she even find the energy to get up each morning feeling so much all the time?

On the edge of his awareness Owen could feel something else, something foreign yet familiar getting closer to them. Or where they getting closer to it? He wondered if what he could sense was the new park attraction. He hoped not.

Nothing that dark and violent, angry and bloody could be allowed near anyone. It felt like a monster, reminiscent of the minds of the deranged men he’d cut down in the navy who’d enjoyed every moment of their bloody activities in towns and villages where women and children bled and died for their entertainment.

“How long has the animal been here?” Owen finally asked, breaking the silence of the car, his voice quieter than usual.

“It’s whole life,” Claire answered simply as she turned down a dirt track that suddenly brought them almost head on with the presence Owen could feel. They were close. And he didn’t like it.

“It’s never seen outside it’s paddock?” Owen asked in surprise. “Not even once?”

“No. We moved it from the nursery when it was two months old and it’s been in the paddock ever since,” Claire explained and Owen felt sick.

It’s  _whole life_. God. How long was that? Weeks.  Months. A year. Two. God. They’d basically locked it up and thrown away the key!

“How long?” Owen nearly croaked, his horror at the idea of caging an animal from two months for its entire life turning his stomach.

“Sixteen months,” Claire answered, looking at Owen curiously. “Why?”

“You made it, put it in a cage and then never interacted with it,” Owen all but growled in anger. Sixteen months! Jesus Christ! “Animals that are raised in isolation tend not to be all that stable. Like humans, they don’t do well alone.”

Claire frowned. Clearly, she couldn’t understand. “It had a sibling.”

“Had?” Owen cringed internally. Past tense wasn’t good.

“It ate it,” Claire stated bluntly.

“Was the sibling younger, runt, sick?” Owen pressed. If the animal had killed and eaten a healthy sibling that could mean it was made crazy and not just raised that way. God, he didn’t know what he wanted Claire’s answer to be.

“They were hatched two months apart. The nursery staff couldn’t handle them both at the same time,” Claire replied, not understanding why Owen was pressing the issue so much.

“How were they introduced? Was the sibling placed in the enclosure or did they meet on neutral ground?” Owen continued to press, needing to know. He needed to know because he had a feeling they’d just tossed the sibling into the paddock and hoped for the best.

“I believe it was placed in the same enclosure,” Claire looked over at Owen as he groaned and collapsed in his seat. “Why is this relevant?”

“Because,” Owen answered heavily, “when you take a predator and give it territory,  _anything_  that enters that territory is a threat. They may have been siblings but they weren’t raised together so neither of them  _knew_  that. Only that one was bigger and had territory and the other was smaller and had invaded.” Owen sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“So, it killed it’s sibling because it saw it was a threat?” Claire asked, honestly surprised. And annoyed. If they’d introduced them correctly, then maybe they’d still have two assets instead of one. They’d have made a killing with the bookings.

“Most likely. It’s not that uncommon in the wild. Humans do the same almost ‘cept we usually call the police,” Owen replied, staring out the front screen window at the paddock he could now see at the end of the road. It was big, the walls high and thick.

It didn’t bode well for him.

As they got out the car they were silent. Owen focused on following Claire, up into the observation room, instead of the mind he could feel inside the paddock. It was sharp and searching for something.

Owen had a sick feeling it was looking for  _him._

“So, what is it?” Owen finally asked as they stood inside the observation room. He spotted the spider Web cracks on one of the panes and he grimaced. “What did you guys make huh? Spino? Another Rex?”

“No. We created our very first genetically modified hybrid,” Claire explained proudly. She was pleased with the achievement of the scientists. Genetic modification wasn’t easy and they’d done the impossible and given the park a new lease on life! Even if the asset wasn’t turning out how they’d hoped, it was a start.

Owen just gaped.

“We asked our focus groups what they wanted from us and the general consensus was: bigger, scarier and more teeth,” Claire continued, on a roll as she moved to stand before the windows overlooking the paddock. “Our investors have been expecting something from us and we need to bring sales back up so we created the Indominus Rex.”

All Owen could really think to say was. “Indominus Rex? Really?” It sounded absurd!

Claire quirked a brow at Owen’s disbelief. He obviously didn’t understand how hard it was to come up with a name that was both easy to say and inspiring at the same time. It had taken them weeks to come up with it!

“We needed something simple and inspiring. You should hear a five-year-old try to say Archaeornithomimus!” Claire defended, inordinately annoyed by Owen’s amusement. She turned sharply on her heel and moved over to the security guard in the room, focusing her attention on the various screens present.

“You should hear you try to say it,” Owen responded sarcastically, his words quiet enough that Claire only heard them because her hearing was sharp after years of handling backstabbing individuals and the instinctive urge to protect oneself from a threat.

She gritted her teeth, her jaw tensing as she studiously ignored Owen’s petulant behaviour. She wondered what she’d ever seen in him! He was a man child!

Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Owen flinched slightly, as though someone had poked him in the side viciously. It was curious but she didn’t pause to consider it. Her reason for being back in this room so soon was to ascertain the integrity of the paddock. And for that she needed Owen. Even if she wished that she didn’t.

“Have those claw marks always been there?” Owen enquired, his gaze on the inches deep scoured marks in the concrete on the adjoining wall. They were easily the height of an average person and it made Owen uncomfortable. Any animal with claws that long, that could reach over 10 feet from the ground, was dangerous.

Adding that fact to the knowledge Claire had given him about the animal’s upbringing... Well, he didn’t feel very safe in this glass box. It was a coffin, no matter how strong the glass and steel.

“Mister Masrani noticed them this morning,” Claire answered, moving to stand beside Owen so she could look at the marks as well. “According to our security footage, the animal made them in the early hours before the work crew arrived.”

Owen nodded and stared at the gouges. They bothered him. Something about them was familiar and it niggled away at him. He thought hard about where he’d seen similar marks before but the memory eluded him. He turned away in frustration and focused on the actual size of the paddock itself.

“The walls are high but you’re adding to them which can only be a good thing. You might want to consider a secondary door behind the main one,” Owen commented, pointing at the large, automated door to the left of the observation room. It was at least 30 feet tall and that worried him too. The Rex door was the same.

“Why?” Claire asked, she needed reasons to justify any additional expenditure and Owen had to give them to her now.

“Security,” Owen replied. “This animal put claw marks on a walk where she knew they’d be seen, to draw attention. She knows these walls are too high. Animals have good depth perception, especially predators. If she’s smart she’ll have laid a trap using those marks to try and get the door open. It’s one door and if it’s open even a quarter of the way she’ll probably be able to force it the rest of the way if she’s as big as a T-Rex.”

Claire blinked in shock, she hadn’t expected such an... Eloquent answer from the trainer. Most of their interactions usually consisted of Owen making terrible jokes and passes at her. She almost forgot that the man had actual degrees and was as smart as they come.

Owen, aware of Claire’s thoughts but trying to ignore them after the sharpness of her judgement only moments ago, figured her positive and surprised feelings were over the possible risk the I-Rex posed and his answer to that potential risk.

“Okay, so we’ll add additional security to the door. Similar to the two-gate system for the Raptor paddock?” Claire clarified, quickly tapping away on her smartphone everything Owen had suggested.

“On a bigger scale but yeah. It’ll be safer for everyone involved and that way the animal won’t catch you unawares,” Owen agreed, impressed that Claire knew about the security on the Raptor paddock. Logically he knew he shouldn’t be since she was the park manager but, at the same time, he couldn’t help feeling impressed that Claire would familiarise herself with the security of each attraction. He never professed to being the most rational of individuals but hey, he was a feral! He had an excuse!

“Okay, is there anything else that I can present to mister Masrani later today?” Claire briskly enquired, her attention still on her phone where she was typing furiously. Owen envied her speed with the touchscreen, he had to resort to an old Nokia because he kept breaking the screen. Barry had laughed like a maniac the first time he’d seen Owen try (and fail) to navigate a touchscreen.

“How big is the animal exactly?” Owen asked, looking at the general perimeter of the paddock. He had a sinking feeling that the I-Rex was far too big for this small paddock that was more suited to a small predator like Dilopasaurus.

“Our estimates put her at 50 feet long when she’s fully grown. At present, she’s about two-thirds that size,” Claire answered absently before pausing in her typing and looking up at Owen. “Why?”

“This paddock is too small. You’ve basically put her in the equivalent of a shoe box,” Owen snapped, anger burning in his gut at the blasé way Claire answered him. “Predators need territory to patrol, it’s instinctive. It’s not a machine Claire! You can’t just store it in a small space and expect it to be sane!” Owen growled sub-audibly as he raked a hand through his hair.

“It’s temporary,” Claire defended, get voice becoming sharp and cold in the face of Owen’s anger. “We’ve already got an area for the I-Rex to move to in the fall. The fences aren’t complete yet so we can’t move her until then.”

“She’s too big for this space Claire. I don’t care if it’s temporary! It’s inhumane to lock her up in such a small space on top of everything else!” Owen near shouted as he spun to glare at the red-haired woman glaring at him. “You’ve put her in a box, feed her with a pole, don’t interact with her, and ignore her obvious need to move around! That’s abuse no matter how you look at it!”

“The animal is perfectly comfortable Mister Grady,” Claire bit out as she speared him with a cold, angry glare. “We feed her remotely because she has consistently attacked the handlers and nearly killed one of them three months ago. The paddock was only meant to be a short-term thing but the tropical storms we’ve had earlier in the year set back construction on the new enclosure.”

Claire stepped forward until she was nearly nose-to-nose with Owen who was breathing heavily and glaring at her still, his anger not diminished in the face of Claire’s calm words.

“We’re not abusing the animal mister Grady. We are doing the best we can at present with the resources available to us,” Claire raised an eyebrow and asked. “What would you prefer we do, open the door so the animal can get loose and potentially harm other attractions and guests to the park?”

Owen’s glare intensified as he gritted his teeth and bit out, his words a near snarl. “Of course not.”

Claire stared at him for a long moment, her eyes locked with Owen’s own stormy orbs which he knew were starting to bleed green.

“I’ll discuss your concerns over the current arrangements with mister Masrani and see if we can speed up construction on the enclosure, or add to the paddock temporarily,” Claire conceded, stepping back and returning to typing in her phone as Owen blinked at stared down at her.

The security guard, who had the unfortunate fortune to have observed what probably amounted to the most volatile conversation between Claire and Owen since they’d met, cleared his throat awkwardly and Owen’s attention snapped to him. The man, in his early forties by Owen’s estimation, looked like was uncomfortable about more than their blow-up.

In fact, as Owen watched the man flicked through several feeds rapidly and his heartbeat increased. Moving swiftly across the observation room, Owen came to stand next to the guard and looked down at the screen with sharp eyes.

Just as he was about to speak, Claire spoke and Owen’s attention returned to the fiery-haired woman.

“I’m going to return to the operations room,” Claire said calmly, slipping her phone into her pocket as she moved towards the door.

“I’m going to stay here for a while,” Owen answered the unspoken question Claire posed. “I’ll catch a ride with the work crew.”

Claire lingered for a moment, suddenly uncertain but she looked at the security guard beside Owen and whatever she’d been about to say never came out. She nodded sharply, have Owen a polite “Mister Grady” and was out the door leaving the trainer and security guard alone.

The room was silent for a moment before Owen looked down at the guard with a firm stare that he’d learnt as a kid, perfected in the navy and used with his girls daily.

“What’s wrong?”

The guard looked up at Owen, at the still present green tinge to his irises and he instantly complied, pointing to the screen. “We have infrared built into the cameras to pick up the animal when she’s hiding.”

Owen nodded, understanding what the guard was saying since the same system was employed with his girls as well (not that he personally needed it but everyone else did).

“But I think the system is malfunctioning. It’s not picking up a heat signature,” The guard explained, pointing at the flashing signal on the screen to his right.

“Has it ever malfunctioned before?” Owen asked, looking over his shoulder and out the observation room windows into the paddock. The light breeze outside moved the foliage and created the illusion of movement but Owen knew, he just knew, that the I-Rex wasn’t moving around. She was watching and waiting.

“Not like this no,” The guard shook his head. He looked at the screen for a moment before starting to stand. “I’m going to check the connector and see if it’s tripped or something.”

Owen nodded and followed behind the guard. “Where is the connector?”

“The main panel is in the service access to the paddock. It’s mirrored on the other side of the wall for ease of access when inside,” The guard answered as he turned and looked at Owen. “Could you watch the screen? It should go black for about a minute then kick back and hopefully the system should be back to normal.”

“What if it doesn’t?” Owen asked as he watched the guard move to the service door that would lead to the service access to the paddock.

“Then it could mean the animal escaped and I’ll be catching the first ferry back to the mainland,” The guard answered simply and Owen wondered for a moment just how crazy the guy was for thinking about an escaped, probably mad dinosaur so calmly.

“Let’s hope not,” Owen muttered as the guard disappeared down the service corridor and Owen moved back to the security desk where the monitors continued to flash a ‘NO SIGNATURE DETECTED’ warning.

He watched the live feed of the guard as he made his way to the panel and fiddled with it for a minute or two and then the screen went black. Owen turned and looked out the observation windows, in the direction of the service door. It was obscured somewhat by foliage but he could see the dark blue of the top half of the door.

“What the fuck?” Owen muttered in disbelief as he watched the guard poke his head out, look about for a minute and then step out into the paddock. “What the fuck is  _wrong_  with this guy?”

Moving towards the service door Owen watched as the guard moved out of his view and he frowned. Not good. No line of sight to keep an eye on the dumbass guard. He moved quicker and covered the distance from the room to the open door into the paddock where he carefully leant out and saw the guard off to the left, fiddling with a box.

“What are you doing!” Owen hissed at the guard who jumped and looked at him in surprise. Honestly, was Owen surrounded by morons or something?

“The main panel said the malfunction was with to do with something in the auxiliary panel,” The guard hissed back as he continued fumbling with the cables in the panel. “It’s like it’s shorted out or something. Maybe some water got in.”

“I don’t care! Get back in here!” Owen hissed, stepping forward slightly into the paddock as he looked around them. God, he hoped the I-Rex wasn’t just watching them. Maybe she was sleeping. God...

“One minute,” The guard muttered. He hunched over the panel and with a relatively quiet grunt a shower of sparks burst out and he jumped back cursing. “Shit!”

Owen, ignoring any pretence at being calm or reasonable, darted out of the doorway and grabbed the collar of the guard in a clawed hand. Just as he turned to drag the guard back to the doorway he froze.

Two burning orange eyes were staring at him from the other side of the doorway. Too close. The guard clearly saw them too because he let out a squeak of fear, his heartrate rocketing and Owen grit his teeth as he stared at those fiery eyes.

There was a mind behind those eyes, strong and intense, determined and it took all of Owen’s focus to not fall into it. That mind was impossible. It was too sharp, too powerful. It was full of fire and hate. Instinct and intellect. And it scared the shit out of him.

“Run,” Owen whispered to the guard. “To the main gate. It’s our only chance.”

The guard nodded slightly signifying he’d understood Owen’s words and he broke away suddenly. Nearly tripping in his hurry to run and Owen turned and ran, outpacing the guard easily.

The loud roar behind them wiped any thoughts in Owen’s mind of going slower for the guard, or of trying to distract the I-Rex. It made his senses go haywire and his instincts scream at him to both run and fight. Wisely, he chose to run.

The main gate was in front of them and as they closed in Owen shouted at the people he knew were just outside. “OPEN THE GATE! OPEN THE FUCKING GATE!”

Whoever was on the other side was obviously a quick thinker because the gate started to inch open, a siren blaring in the background as it did. Owen slammed into it at full speed, his body hitting it with a loud thump and he sharply turned on his side to slip through the twelve-inch gap. He turned and watched as the guard covered the last distance between himself and the gate—now twenty or so inches open.

Owen shouted again. “CLOSE THE GATE! CLOSE IT!”

The guard managed to slip through and Owen realised that the gap was still too big, the gate closed slower than it opened. So, he turned and kept running, running past cars and as he heard the roar of the I-Rex and the crunching of metal as it was crushed by the I-Rex’s strength.

He dropped down to the ground, sliding in the dirt and gravel like a soccer player trying to steal the ball, and rolled under one of the work trucks. Laying on his back he turned his head to the side and saw the guard hiding behind one of the other trucks. The workmen who had been around had ran off somewhere, Owen guessed to the observation room with its reinforced steel walls.

Trying not to move, Owen felt the vibrations of each step the I-Rex took as she moved closer and closer, her senses far superior to even Owen’s and he realised that she’d find him. He was screwed.

_Fuck!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god! I can't believe I've left this with such a cliffhanger... Oh wait. Yes I can.


	9. The Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The Indominus shouldn't exist in the first place Miss Dearing. Least of all because genetic experimentation with previously extinct animals is still a grey area for the UN.” Owen replied bitingly, feeling vindictive pleasure as Claire flinched imperceptibly at his statement. “Never mind the environment it was kept in. That's a clear breach of animal rights if ever I saw one.”
> 
> “Extinct animals don't have any rights.” Claire shot back, almost as though it was a go-to defence and that, more than anything made Owen snarl out loud, and Claire took a small step back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first off. I am so sorry for the long wait for this update! I've had some hello writers block and this has literally taken me weeks of snail pace writing to get out. Second, I've had so much uni work and my dissertation to focus on that I've honestly had a hard time devoting time to this recently. However, I've got my muse back and have kind of given up obeying the movie so this is a fix-it fic with my own spiel.  
> On the matter of some of the content in this chapter, I've fleshed out some characters powers more, mentioned a few things that I'm going to build on, and also set it up for another running start.  
> I hope you enjoy it and that you've all had a lovely holiday season!!

Slashing the thick cable above him with his clawed hands, Owen resisted the urge to gag as the truck’s gas poured over him, soaking into his clothes and burning his throat with every breath he took. He lay prone on the ground in a growing puddle of gas, trying to calm his breathing and his rapid heart.

His mind was burning with conflicting desires to just get up and run away as fast as possible, and to let his claws loose, the fangs he never let show and his eyes glow their fiery, neon green.

Owen’s heart clenched as the steady footfalls of the Indominus halted. He turned his head to the side and stared in horror as the security guard looked up at the Indominus towering over him. The man hadn’t tried to hide under the other truck, or even chance the trees. He was exposed and Owen knew there was  _nothing he could do._  Nothing except watch a man’s last moments on this earth and promise to make sure his family knew about his fate.

The feeling of a mind ending, of a life being extinguished, is difficult to explain. There were no words in any human language to describe the feeling, at least there were none that Owen had ever found. It’s like a combination of being dunked in a lake of ice cold water in the middle of winter in only your pants, and being thrown into an active volcano at the same time. It was like being stabbed in the eye and having someone peel off your skin with an ice-cream scoop.

Only years of being exposed to death in all its forms allowed Owen to force back the instinctive need to keen in phantom pain as the Indominus’ jaws opened up and the security guard was snapped up. His hands were shaking, entire body tense and vibrating with energy and a terrifying realisation that the Indominus was going to find him even with the gas obscuring his scent.

Those burning eyes, fiery and full of wrathful vengeance were biopic. They could see him just as well as he could see her, better probably. It wasn’t going to end well because you couldn’t trick all the senses of a predator made up of some of the best hunters in world history. He might as well just slice his own throat now so he won’t feel the pressure of being swallowed alive.

 

* * *

 

She moved with deliberate steps, knowing she didn’t need to rush to get to her prey. It was beneath the other not-tree. It stank of cold, sharpness and though she disliked it she wasn’t going to let it deter her. This prey was important. She needed to find it, to kill it. She didn’t know why exactly, she just felt the overwhelming urge to destroy all that it was. She feared it but at the same time she smelt its fear of her. She didn’t understand how it could fear her but also be a threat to her. She simply knew it was and that meant it had to die. It was prey.

As she drew closer to it, the small creature with a loud heart, she sniffed and snorted at the sharp burn of something in the air. It covered the scent of her quarry but it didn’t matter, she had more than just her sense of smell to hunt it down. The faint glow of warmth on the ground where her prey had been told her what she needed to know.

Her prey was beneath the not-tree with the sharp smell and burn. It would take nothing to move it and kill the creature beneath it. Nothing at all.

She paused, standing over the not-tree and tilted her head down toward the ground, sniffing the dirt where the warmth in her vision still lingered. She could barely scent traces of the creature beneath the sharp burn that made her want to paw at her muzzle.

She pressed her muzzle against the not-tree, pushing against it and she realised she could move it with ease. It was light enough, like a fallen tree after strong winds. As she began to push harder against it she sneezed suddenly and her mind blurred for a moment.

The heat on the ground disappeared, the faint scent of the creature as well and even though her muzzle was pressed against the not-tree she felt like she was suddenly pressing against the ground. She didn’t understand. Couldn’t.

She’d known two creatures had fled the cage she’d been held in all her life; she had killed one. One still lived. But her mind and her senses were telling her it was gone and  _she didn’t understand._

 

* * *

 

Owen dared not breathe as the Indominus nosed the side of the truck he lay beneath. He was screwed, oh god was he screwed! He was going to die and the last thing he’d ever hear would be the mind of a crazed monster hybrid!

He could  _hear_  her.

What?

_How?_

He was shielding. He shouldn’t be getting  _anything_  from her except her general presence but he could feel her thoughts, the primal instincts and brain translated in his mind for him to comprehend.

_‘Must kill threat. Why threat? Not prey? Hunt? Kill. Kill it.’_

The thoughts kept swirling around his head and Owen blinked at their intensity. He couldn’t block them out, the Indominus was too close. He couldn’t stop her thoughts from echoing in his mind.

_‘Can’t smell. Must see. Hiding. Under not-tree.’_

Owen closed his eyes and started to think furiously, praying to any and all deities in the history of the human race.  _’Not here. Not here. I’m not here. You can’t see me. You can’t sense me. I’m not here. Not here. Go away. Go away. Leave. Not here. Go. Go.’_

A loud snort made him jump and nearly broke his concentration but Owen continued repeating his mental mantra, partially aware of the sudden confusion emanating from the predator beside him.

Oh, fuck was it working?

It was  _working._   _Oh god_ , it was working!

The heavy footfalls of the Indominus as she moved, slowly and haltingly, away from the gas tanker Owen was hiding underneath reverberated in his chest. His head was pounding, aching like he had a migraine and he grit his teeth in concentration as he continued to focus all his strength on tricking the Indominus. The pain was so great, the pressure behind his eyes so extensive that Owen’s hands came up and gripped his head, claws digging into his skin and drawing blood.

Eventually Owen felt himself drifting, his mind no longer able to focus, too exhausted by his concentration, fear and pain. Blinking hazily, he stared out across the open ground outside the Indominus’ enclosure, taking in the large prints in the sandy gravel and the overturned truck a few feet away. He couldn’t feel the reverberating footfalls of the Indominus any longer.  She was far enough away that he could only sense a faint, angry buzz of her mind in his over taxed mind.

His last coherent, thought before everything faded to black, Owen spared for his girls, hoping they were okay.

 

* * *

 

The sound of a car engine, loud and painful in his head, roused Owen from his unconsciousness and with a pained groan he opened his eyes. Blinking furiously at the brightness of the Costa Rican sun, Owen slowly dragged himself out from underneath the tanker, his arms heavy and body aching in a way he hadn’t experienced since he was a kid and his grandpa had taken him on a three-day hike in the mountains.

Standing on weak legs, Owen took a deep breath and looked towards the car that had pulled up nearby the overturned truck, noting that three InGen security guards with non-lethals were climbing out. Moving quickly, ignoring the pain in his joints and the pounding in his skull, Owen reached the guards and yanked open the driver’s side door.

“Sir!” The nearest guard, a middle aged, black guy said, looking at Owen in concern. “Were you injured sir?”

Owen shook his head. “Not important. I need to get to the control centre.”

The guard nodded and didn’t hesitate in climbing back in the car, the other two guards following suite. In silence Owen began driving, wiping blood from his brow as he sped down the track hellbent on reaching the damned control centre and dealing with this damned mess.

The guard in the passenger seat, ‘Ramirez’ if Owen recalled correctly, opened the glove box and pulled out a packet of wet wipes. Opening the packet, he offered one to Owen who took it gratefully and scrubbed off the rest of the blood now beginning to dry on the side of his face. The small cuts from his claws had stopped bleeding at some point and he could already feel them healing, so Owen wasn’t concerned about anyone freaking out about him. The benefits of having an advanced healing factor were many after all.

The drive felt like it took far longer than it should have, though that probably had more to do with Owen’s exhaustion than with the distance, and when he finally came to a stop outside the bunker access to the control centre, he all but fell out of the car. Only his pride and need to remain strong kept him from collapsing in a heap and begging for relief from the pounding headache behind his eyes.

The first person Owen came across as he entered the centre wasn’t Claire or Hoskins. It was Masrani. The owner of Jurassic World was looking in his direction as Owen stalked into the room filled with main terminals that controlled everything in Jurassic World, and Owen felt a wave of calm try and wash over him but to his tired and exhausted mind it felt more like a cheese grater on his face. Instinctively he pushed it away and Masaaki stumbled back a step, his eyes widening in surprise as he stared at the raptor trainer as Owen stalked past him heading straight for Claire in the centre of the room.

“Where is it?” Owen all but snarled at her as he came to a halt directly beside her, his crinkled and gas-stained clothing a direct contrast to Claire’s pressed white blouse and skirt.

“Heading south toward the Park,” Claire answered calmly, turning her head and looking at Owen, concern spiking in her mind and Owen felt like hissing and retreating. Fuck his head hurt and he couldn’t block. He couldn’t block.

The rest of the minds in the room were muted though. They weren’t as strong as Claire’s but they were present in his mind, unable to be ignored entirely but he was able to push them aside so he could focus on the danger the Indominus presented.

Masrani was sharp too. Not as sharp as Claire but his mind blared out and Owen wondered why. Masrani, he knew was a mutant, but he’d never known for certain if Claire was. She radiated tension and control and he’d never understood exactly what her deal was. Why she needed so much control. Maybe she was a mutant with a power that required control? But what? Telepathy? Possible.

Owen had never understood his own powers but from what he understood, he could copy other mutant powers. His grandpa had been a feral and Owen hadn’t manifested until after the third time he’d gone to stay at his grandpa’s. He hadn’t always had this mind reading either. Did it really count as mind reading when it came and went? Sometimes he’d be able to hear every thought in a ten-mile radius, but for months he wouldn’t hear a thing. It was hit and miss and he had no idea what triggered it.

“Containment is enroute,” Claire continued as she returned her gaze back to the screens at the front of the room. “They’re authorised for non-lethal recapture.”

“You need to evacuate the island,” Owen stated, still staring at Claire forcefully as she glanced at him and held his gaze. “And authorise use of deadly force.”

Claire turned fully to him again, her mouth already opening and Owen knew she was going to argue.

“People have died Claire,” Owen growled, leaning forward as he stared unwaveringly at Claire. “That… thing is loose and it’s angry. It’s so damned angry and it’ll kill whatever it can find. No one on this island is safe so long as it’s alive.”

“We’ve invested millions into the Indominus Mister Grady. I will not authorise deadly force unless there is no other option,” Claire stated firmly, her eyes sharp and Owen realised she wasn’t going to change her mind.

“The Indominus won’t go back into a cage gracefully Claire. It’s gonna try ten times as hard to escape if you manage to catch her. And she’ll get out. She’ll  _find_  a way, Claire. I know she will. I know it,” Owen declared, his voice low in the strange silence that had fallen in the control room.

“With all due respect Mister Grady, the Indominus would have still been in its enclosure if you hadn’t entered it,” Claire pointed out and Owen felt like recoiling and clawing her face at the same time.

“The Indominus shouldn’t exist in the first place Miss Dearing. Least of all because genetic experimentation with previously extinct animals is still a grey area for the UN,” Owen replied bitingly, feeling vindictive pleasure as Claire flinched imperceptibly at his statement. “Never mind the environment it was kept in. That’s a clear breach of animal rights if ever I saw one.”

“Extinct animals don’t have any rights,” Claire shot back, almost as though it was a go-to defence and that, more than anything made Owen snarl out loud, and Claire took a small step back.

“Thirty years ago, neither did I,” Owen snarled as he turned on his heel and walked away. He needed to leave now, before he said anything else. He needed-

He collapsed outside the control room in one of the breakrooms, landing heavily in one of the fold out chairs. Leaning forward, Owen cradled his head in his hands, shutting his eyes and just breathing. God why the fuck was he here? Why the fuck had he thought being on this island, working with predators, was a good idea? Why the _fuck_  wasn’t he on the first fucking ferry off this hellhole?

He knew why. The answers to all the questions he asked himself everyday about being at this damned amusement park. He knew. He came to Isle Sorna because it was a fresh start. A chance to do something never before done. To thrive surrounded by creatures as misunderstood as himself. As powerful albeit in different ways. And he was staying for his girls. His pack. An alpha doesn’t run away. An alpha doesn’t back down.

And an alpha certainly doesn’t give up.

 

* * *

 

Gray and Zach stood together in the bright sun, the two brothers waiting patiently for one of the Gyrosphere’s to return. The VIP wristbands aunt Claire had given them had turned out to be pretty useful in jumping the long queues. But still, for all that Jurassic World amazed the Mitchell brothers, both still wished to spend time with their aunt. They hadn’t seen her since Gray had been a baby, barely able to walk and talk at the same time with ease—though Zach still said that was a problem for his little brother. With their parents fighting so much and the divorce neither of them were supposed to know about, but did because shouting isn’t the best way to keep a secret... With all of that, they’d just wanted to spend some time with a family member who wouldn’t spend the entire time shouting or forgetting about them.

Unfortunately, that seemed impossible.

Zach sighed and stared out across the open plains where the brachiosaur roamed, the light breeze lifting his fringe periodically and the sound of giggling nearby drew the older Mitchell boy’s attention like a moth to a flame.

Before he could do much more than smile at the girls who looked to be his age, Gray started talking and demanding his attention. Snapping at his brother was second nature now, especially with the stress of their parents fighting, but Zach was trying not to be so sharp with his brother. It wasn’t Gray’s fault their parents couldn’t get along for five minutes for the sake of their kids. It wasn’t Gray’s fault that the worry and fear Zach felt about their parents breaking up and where they’d live, who’d they live with and if they’d still see both their parents was affecting Zach’s grades. No. _That_  wasn’t Gray’s fault. It was their parents.

So yeah, Zach was trying not to be mean to his only brother, but  _God_  it was so hard sometimes!

When they finally got into the gyrosphere, Gray lit up like a proverbial Christmas tree and Zach smiled softly at the sight. His brother had become so quiet and withdrawn in the house, trying to not make a nuisance of himself, and Zach felt like an absolute jerk because he’d been as ignorant of his brother as their parents were of both of them. Too busy with his own problems to realise that his little brother was scared and afraid and probably wondering if the fighting was because of him. Zach couldn’t blame him or be angry at Gray for thinking light that, Zach had had the exact same thoughts himself when he’d felt the anger and pain from his parents whenever he was around.

It had taken Zach weeks to realise that he was feeling their emotions as well as his own because they were so strong. His parents who were both adept at shielding because of their empathic son, but they were so angry and hurting all the time around each other that they didn’t even realise they weren’t shielding anymore. Gray wasn’t empathic. It was a small mercy for him, Zach thought, but his brother didn’t know that their parents weren’t angry at them the way Zach did. No matter what Zach said, he knew his brother would still think he was at least partially to blame.

It made him angry at his parents, made him resent them and Zach knew that his shields weren’t the best. That sometimes he pushed his emotions onto other people. He just didn’t know if he had pushed his  _own_  anger and resentment onto his parents and made their fighting worse.

Zachary was honestly relieved when he heard the ride operator call out that the next sphere was available. He knew he’d hurt Gray with what he’d just said, how he’d reminded him of how Zach didn’t want to be responsible for him (he didn’t, honestly, but at the same time Gray’s his little brother, he’s meant to be responsible for him) and he wanted to kick himself for being such an ass to his kid brother. He and Gray didn’t have anyone else, not with their parents fighting and aunt Claire hardly ever bothering with them. He shouldn’t be acting like this.  

Deciding that he’s change today, no matter how damned hard it would be, Zach climbed into the gyrosphere after Gray and turned his attention to making sure he didn’t hurt his brother even more. He was an empath for God’s sake! He knows what words can do to a person, knows how they can make them feel, and he knows that every time he opens his mouth and snarks at Gray that he’s hurting him. Zach was honestly ashamed of himself for never really paying attention to how his brother has felt over the last few months. Some empath he is, not even able to realise when his brother is hurting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already know what I'm gonna write for the next chapter, have no fear on that front. Just gotta find the time.  
> Comments are a grand thing btw :)


	10. The Re-Evaluation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You should put that in the brochure. Eventually one of these things will eat somebody!” Lowery said sarcastically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last I have updated! I am so sorry it's taken me this long everyone! I had the mother of all writer's block with this fic and I've had to find the time to re-watch the movie just so I could get going with it again! Please forgive me! Also, JSYK this is definitely an AU from this point on because I just can't keep to the original plot of the movie (tbh I refuse). You have been warned!

“Everyone remain calm. The implant will shock it if it gets too close to a perimeter fence,” Claire reasoned calmly, noticing how everyone in the room seemed uncertain and worried after Grady’s reaction. She always hated having arguments in front of others. Such an unnecessary complication to work dynamics.

Claire sighed softly, her right eye twitching as she watched Owen’s retreating back. She could have handled that better. A lot better. The man, even if he infuriated her at the best of times, had only just survived almost being dino-chow and was obviously traumatised by that fact. Claire honestly didn’t understand why he wasn’t in a hospital bed or a curled up gibbering wreck from the encounter. She had half a dozen construction workers who had huddled in one of the work containers at the paddock who’d been in worse shape than Grady, and they hadn’t even been seen by the Indominus!

Maybe it had something to do with the man’s mutation, Claire knew he was a feral—she knew every mutation of the park staff and could quote them verbatim—but since she’d never known a feral, Claire was reluctant to simply chalk the man’s continuing sanity up to Grady’s mutation. Assuming something usually ended up coming back to bite you in the ass after all. Though really, simply assuming Grady was sane to begin with might be the problem in her reasoning.

Perhaps it was instinct? The papers Claire had read on ferals all stated that the “ _instinctive drive of a feral mutant is to survive… there is little that a feral will not do in order to promote their ongoing survival_ ” and maybe Grady was proving them right. His continued inclusion in the retrieval of the Indominus was likely paramount to his own survival, as was his determination to kill the asset Claire had spent four years trying to obtain funding for.

Still, she couldn’t claim to be an expert in genetics or mutant studies, she’d gone to university for a combined palaeontology and business degree. Shaking her head minutely, Claire turned her attention back to the large screens at the opposite end of the control room.

She was distracted from her thoughts for a moment by Lowery’s comment on the speed of the asset.

“It’s moving really fast,” his voice held an undercurrent of tension, worry and concern, and Claire’s thoughts mirrored him. The Indominus could be a disaster, and she was surprised at how fast it was moving, but she didn’t dare voice her worry. It wouldn’t help the situation and would simply make it worse.

“Let Asset Containment capture it quietly. The very existence of this park is predicated on our ability to handle incidents like this,” Masrani’s voice rang out suddenly in the too-quiet control room, catching the attention of everyone inside. “It was an eventuality okay?”

Even to Claire’s ears, Simon’s words sounded uncertain, as though he himself doubted that things would turn out well and Claire, in a single moment of doubt, felt like Owen’s determination to kill the Indominus might actually be the right track.

‘ _This could all go horribly wrong._ ’ She thought grimly as she focused her attention on the screen tracking the asset’s movement in the jungle. ‘ _There’s four miles between it and the nearest attraction… but it’s moving so fast we might not have enough time to stop it._ ’

“You should put that in the brochure.  _Eventually one of these things will eat somebody_!” Lowery said sarcastically. He was tapping away at the screens of his work station doing God-knows what but Claire felt an irrational urge to laugh because, God…  _Lowery was right._  They were dinosaurs! The entire park was founded on people—ignorant, stupid people—seeing predators and prey in a natural environment.  _Of course,_  this was going to happen. Claire thought back to the email she’d received from Ian Malcolm back when she first took this job almost six years ago.

_Life is actually a series of encounters in which one event may change those that follow in a wholly unpredictable, even devastating way. The de-extinction of dinosaurs is an encounter in the life of the human race that has changed all follow encounters in a way we cannot wholly predict. But one thing is known Ms Dearing. One thing. We are witnesses to our own demise because life breaks free. Life expands to new territories. Painfully, perhaps even dangerously. But life finds a way. Our species is but a blip to the history of our planet, the dinosaurs another. Returning one species that has been extinct for 75 million years is the arrogance of man and the unerring, and wrong, belief that science is predicated toward discovery. Discovery is the rape of the natural world by human hands. Our hands. And it’s going to come back and bite us in the ass._

‘ _I really hope he was wrong._ ’ Claire thought, shaking her head slightly but deep down she had a strong feeling that Ian Malcolm, for all the InGen had sought to make him out to be a mad man back at the beginning of the new millennium, wasn’t as mad or as ignorant as most thought him to be.

“That paddock is four miles from the nearest attraction. ACU can handle this. No one else is going to get…” Claire’s voice drifted off into silence.

“Eaten,” Lowery stated, almost as though he were stating a fact. Someone else was going to get eaten. Claire just hoped he was wrong.

 

* * *

 

Owen dragged himself up from the chair he’d collapsed in and moved slowly towards the supply closet at the other end of the break room. It was standard Park policy for there to be medical supplies in all areas but most of the time the really useful stuff was hidden in the supply closets in the buildings—something about making sure the public didn’t do something stupid, Owen didn’t really care to be honest, all he wanted were some painkillers strong enough to numb a ferals headache.

He should probably go to medical, get a proper check-up just in case there was something wrong and his healing factor wasn’t handling it as quickly as needed. But Owen was nothing if not stubborn and he wasn’t going to leave control until the damned Indominus was a whole load of dead. So, supply closet it was with its shitty painkillers.

Scrunching his nose as he opened the closet, Owen realised his clothes stank of gas and oil, so much so he was surprised no one had commented on it. Well, actually he wasn’t. Park Security wouldn’t say a damned word to him about anything not raptor related because most of them were shit scared of the feral mutant with a pack of raptors—they were smart like that. Claire wouldn’t mention it because her focus was on the Indominus and Masrani probably didn’t want to upset the “obviously traumatised” raptor trainer who’d nearly been the Indominus’ dinner.

He needed to change his clothes though, couldn’t go around smelling like a gas tanker. He’d get high from the damned fumes with his stupidly heightened senses. But being a feral meant changing into any old random set of clothes was all but impossible.

Barry was gonna kill him.

Pulling out his cell, Owen was surprised to note the thing was on silent and he’d had half a dozen calls and messages in the last hour alone. They ranged from “ _Owen?_ ” to “ _please tell me you’re alive, I can’t deal with Hoskins alone_ ” to “ _Vous baisé! Repond au telephone!!_ ”

Hitting redial, Owen raised the cell to his ear, fully prepared to get reamed in by his fellow trainer and was pleasantly surprised to get a garbled mix of curses and adulations at his continued existence.

“Owen!” Barry’s voice sounded stressed, the man’s accent was stronger than usual, telling Owen all he needed to know about how worried his friend was. “Where are you my friend! Are you hurt? The girls are going crazy Owen! Blue won’t calm down!”

“I’m alive Barry but I need a favour,” Owen assured, frowning at Barry’s comments about the pack. That was unusual. Maybe they’d heard the Indominus roar?

Velociraptors were incredibly territorial and wouldn’t back down from a fight if they were threatened on their territory. Palaeontologists had spent considerable time analysing every facet of raptor fossils and animal behaviour experts had reached the conclusion that raptors were pack hunters, had advanced social interaction and functioned similar to hyenas in the savannah. Owen generally agreed, up to the hyena part. He’d never seen a hyena plan an attack the way his girls did. They were ambush predators, like lions and jaguars, and by God were they  _fast_.

The pigs had gotten faster as a result.

“Owen what’s going on? Hoskins and his InGen guards are going crazy over here!” Barry hissed, the sound of shouting in the background easily filtering through the line thanks to Owen’s enhanced senses. He could also hear Blue screeching and it tugged at his heart.

That was the sound of a raptor in distress over a packmate. She was worrying over  _him!_

“Never mind. Just get Hoskins and his assholes away from the girls, they’ll make it worse. I’m on my way,” Owen said firmly, already moving to leave control.

His instincts were torn, on the one hand they screamed at him to make sure the Indominus was being dealt with and to stick around to watch, but on the other they were demanding he attend his pack. The pack instinct won out however and Owen didn’t even blink as he hung up on Barry and barrelled through control into the bright sun outside.

Blinking a few times to acclimatise to the light Owen moved purposefully for one of the quads ACU used for herding the smaller herbivores. He didn’t bother with even giving anyone an explanation and instead tore out of the control compound, kicking up dirt and gravel as he sped towards his girls, senses on high alert for anything lurking.

Fortunately, it seemed like the world had decided to grant him a short reprieve and there was no sense that the Indominus was nearby. It seemed that the implant tracker was still working and the damned thing was heading away from his girls. Small mercies! The jungle around him was alive with noise, birds chirping and bugs hissing, leaves and branches swaying in the humid breeze. It was the best security system ever invented. If the jungle went silent around him Owen knew he’d be in trouble. Noise meant safety. And he really liked safety right now.

The closer he drew to the raptor paddock, the more Owen felt like something was scratching in his brain, at the edge of his awareness in a place he rarely looked. It was irritating but nothing he couldn’t handle. There was no violent insistence to rip and tear at him, mind and body. More like an insistent need to curl up around him.

_Blue._

It was his girl. Shit! The Indominus had really done a number on him. He hadn’t felt Blue like this for a  _long time,_  never had this desperate need to be with him since she was a hatchling. He’d pushed down the instinct that screamed at him to bond to her because no, bonding to a raptor would be the worst idea he ever had and, contrary to common belief Owen wasn’t  _actually_  a moron. Even if he acted like it a lot of the time.

So, he’d resisted the instinct, pushing it aside until he had a watered down awareness of her—and she had an awareness of him too—because that was safe. But now, after several years of having this semi-awareness of his girl, the damned Indominus had ripped his mind right open and he could feel, he could damn well feel, Blue’s terror and fear and rage and worry and all the things that humans thought animals too stupid to experience. Honestly, like emotions were a uniquely human experience!

She was desperate to see him, to make sure her alpha was well, and Owen could sense his other girls clambering for his presence, full of pent up aggression and fear.

The closer he got to the paddock the sharper his senses became and over the revving of the quad Owen could hear Barry’s voice, his heartbeat and the sub-vocal growing of Blue. He could hear another voice as well, one that he really didn’t want to deal with right now.

“How fast can they run?”

Hoskins.  _Motherfucking Hoskins._

“Forty. Fifty when they’re hungry,” Barry’s deep baritone voice replied to the asshole of Isla Nublar and Owen felt like snorting because his girls could easily reach sixty-miles-an-hour if they were sufficiently motivated and had the space. But Hoskins didn’t need to know that. And he needed to wait until the bastard left because if Owen saw him now he’d make good on his threat from the other day.

“Woo! You ever open them up, see what they can do?” Hoskins enquired, the pitch of his voice betraying his interest, his greed and Owen felt like growing as he pulled into the opening before the paddock, killing the engine.

“No,” Barry responded shortly, voice clipped and Owen couldn’t help but smirk at that. He wasn’t certain who hated Hoskins more, him or Barry. It was too close to tell really.

As he took a step closer to the paddock something flared in him and Blue hissed as Delta, Echo and Charlie all screeched in unison. He blinked suddenly against the sensation of having four angry, protective velociraptors clamouring for his mental attention. He seemed to have formed a deep bond with his girls without ever realising it.

That velociraptors had any sort of ability to form a mental bond worried him and, not for the first time, Owen wondered viciously over what the hell the damned scientists had put into the cocktail to make his girls. He didn’t trust them to have not tweaked something and Wu— _especially Wu—_ was too arrogant and determined to leave his mark for Owen to even think of trusting the man.

Ignoring whatever else Hoskins was saying now, something about a wolf-cub he’d owned—Owen felt like laughing the man was lying his ass off and he bet Barry knew it—Owen moved quickly towards the meat locker and the small building attached to it. Barry had declared it their ‘safe space’ and turned the damned one-room building into what amounted to a den, complete with old sofa and mini-fridge. The first night his girls had spent in the paddock had also seen him and Barry sat in that room, trying to calm their nerves at the sounds Blue and Delta made. God he hoped he never had to hear that sort of keening desperation from his girls again. It’d damn near reduced him to tears.

As Owen striped off his clothes, grimacing at the stink of oil and gas, he felt his phone buzz in his back pocket. Not bothering with it, because he already knew what it was going to be, he proceeded to reach for his spare clothes and throw them on. A sacrificed bottle of water from the mini-fridge helped remove any obvious traces of oil and gas from his skin but Owen knew he’d be irritated by the smell until he took the time to take a shower but damn he just didn’t have the time.

“Code 19!” Barry’s voice echoed in his ears for a moment and Owen’s attention returned to the situation at hand. Escaped hybrid dinosaur, worried pack and Hoskins. He couldn’t do anything about the first one of those things but the latter two, well they were within his power. For now.

“Hey yeah, it’s me,” Hoskins voice was muffled, quiet, as though he was trying not to be overheard and Owen strained his hearing, pushing past the shouting and cursing of the paddock handlers, to hear him. “We might have an opportunity here.”

‘ _Oh shit. Not good._ ’ Owen thought darkly as he continued to listen to what Hoskins was saying but the loud revving of a truck starting ripped through his ears and he gripped his head, hissing loudly in pain. By the time the pain subsided and the truck had moved away, Owen was only able to hear the last few seconds of Hoskins hushed conversation.

“We might have a chance for a field test soon enough.”

‘ _Oh hell no._ ’ Owen raged, something dark and angry unfurling in his chest as he left the den and moved with purpose towards his girls. ‘ _You are not getting anywhere near my girls you asshole!_ ’

As he turned the corner to the pens and saw his girls in their harnesses, Owen’s shoulders relaxed minutely, so little that only the raptors noticed and the tension that was in each of his girls’ forms bled away as they took in the sight of their alpha. Hoskins had disappeared and Owen narrowed his eyes, sniffing at the air and cataloguing the emotions that had been pouring off the man.

He honestly pitied his girls who’d been forced to smell that pig, unable to do anything because of the steel titanium harnesses that kept them immobile. He wanted to rip into the bastard himself and he was the pinnacle of feral control—not that Claire thought so.

Owen walked slowly but confidently to his beta, placing a gentle hand on her neck and maintaining eye-contact with her. “Good girl Blue. I’m good, no need to worry now girl.” He murmured, knowing that it was more the tone of his voice and the subtle wave of reassurance he sent across the bond between himself and the pack that they were responding to.

The sound of Barry’s shoes crunching on the gravel-like sand behind him drew Owen from investigating the link between his girls and himself any further and with a small sigh he turned around to face his friend.

“Owen! My God man what happened to you!” Barry exclaimed, his voice rising slightly as he hurried closer to Owen, his eyes wide and full of worry. “Why are you wearing different clothes my friend? What happened?”

“Code 19,” Owen replied tiredly, giving Blue a final pat on the neck before he began walking alongside Barry back towards the main gates of the paddock. “Damned scientists made a new dinosaur and it got out.”

“Merde… these people, they  _never_  learn,” Barry muttered, shaking his head in exasperation. “How can they be so smart yet so stupid at the same time?”

“Intelligence and common sense don’t go hand-in-hand Bar’ that’s all I can tell ya,” Owen quipped as he leant against the reinforced-concrete wall and stared at his French friend. “They made something as big as Rexy, as smart as the girls and put it in a box on its own.”

Barry stared at him for a moment and Owen silently counted to ten as he watched Barry process his words. The reaction, when it happened was spectacular. Curses in four different languages, each detailing impossible anatomical feats, spewed from Barry’s mouth as he threw his hands up in the air in pure frustration.

“It gets better,” Owen continued once Barry had calmed enough for him to speak. His voice was sharp and biting, a clear indicator that Barry wasn’t going to like what he heard next. “Damn thing planned an escape and now ACU is moving to contain it. Corporate want it alive so non-lethals only. They don’t stand a chance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment on this and tell me what you think, it's damned hard to write this stuff ya' know and I adore any response I get (your comments aren't a bother I assure you)


	11. Asset Out of Containment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you hunt a genetic hybrid that just so happens to be an apex predator you _do not_ send out ACU with the equivalent of fancy looking NERF guns to recapture it. Especially when it's over thirty-feet long and has a whole load of tricks in its jaws. Oh, and you don't ignore the _very knowledgeable expert_ just because you don't want to be wrong. That's just stupid. (Also included, Zach and Gray, Masrani and Henry bonding scenes because I can so haha.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this has taken me so long to write everyone! Please forgive me and my inability to focus on more than one thing at a time! I give you a monster edition chapter with a whole load of swearing, cursing and general common fucking sense for the idiots of Jurassic World. Poor Owen, I don't half put him through the wringer :)

Owen returned to the Control Room as dusk fell, the sun dipping below the horizon just before his journey from the raptor paddock a quick bike ride through the jungle. The sight of Claire stood tall, shoulders back and head high as she watched with shrewd eyes as guests were discreetly encouraged to retire for the evening made him grit his teeth, temper flaring suddenly. Fighting the urge to growl, pushing his instinctive need to rail at her for not listening to him about the Indominus, Owen moved to stand beside her. A silent shadow with ferocity in his gaze.

There were three members of the ACU team present in the Control Room, two of them covering the exits and the third poised near a console where he was quietly directing those out in the field on where to go in their hunt for the Indominus. Owen could see in the live feed on the left-side of the monitors that they were armed with non-lethals, stunners and tranquilisers instead of the large calibre rounds they needed that capable of putting holes even in Rexy’s hide.

He didn’t see Masrani anywhere and wondered if the man didn’t have the stomach to watch what was most certainly going to be a blood bath unfold on his and Claire’s command.

Over the quiet din of the Control Room Owen swore he could hear whispering, like a static voice that was distorted to the point that it was unrecognisable as any language but a part of him still recognised it was a voice. It didn’t help his general feeling of foreboding as he stood beside Claire, body forced to stillness even as his feral instincts pushed for him to pace, to stalk, to  _hunt_.

‘ _This is going to end in bloodshed_ ,’ Owen thought suddenly, absolutely certain as the ACU team switched to night vision as darkness fell in the jungle, the last rays of the sun disappearing as evening finally arrived.

“She’s too smart for this to end any other way but badly Claire,” Owen muttered, his voice low enough that only Claire heard his words. She turned her head to look at him, her eyes sharp flecks of ice as she tried to ignore her own misgivings, but Owen could feel it, feel her, and the worry she hid deep down. “Whatever she’s made of, she’s not normal, not predictable in the slightest. The only thing I know for certain about her is she’s full of anger Claire. Anger and hate. She’ll kill anything she can just because she can.”

“She’s an animal Mister Grady,” Claire murmured, her voice sharp even quiet and Owen felt like growling at her for her intentional ignorance.

“We’re all animals Claire. Doesn’t mean we’re stupid, or unable to plan or want to kill. Socialisation is key for all species for positive, productive development. She hasn’t been socialised, she’s been raised in a box with no interaction and met her sibling for the first time in her own established territory. She’s as big as the T-Rex so I’m guessing she’s got some sort of single predator DNA in her mix. That means her own kind is a threat if they’re not on equal footing. Her sibling was a threat because instinct is a powerful thing Claire and sometimes not even human intelligence is capable of stopping instinct,” Owen said, turning bodily to face her as he spoke heatedly. He could feel the need to hunt and rip and tear boiling under his skin and he realised with a jolt that it wasn’t  _his_. This was something else. The  _Indominus_.

Gritting his teeth Owen continued, “the best thing for the Indominus is to put it down before she kills more people. Before she harms any of the animals on the island Claire. And she will. If she’s not put down, she’ll kill every living thing on this island. She’s insane. All fire and anger and the need to hunt and rip and tear. She’s worse than a feral in a rage, she’s still able to reason, still has the ability to  _think_. And  _that’s_  what makes her _so damned dangerous_. What makes  _any_ animal dangerous. Intelligence is something she’s already shown with the marks on the walls Claire. You’re underestimating her because  _you_  don’t want to consider the possibility that you’ve made something that is a raging psychopath with comparable intelligence to a human.”

“At the end of the day she’s still an animal and we’re smarter than her Mister Grady,” Claire repeated, her voice firm as she stared unblinkingly at him, her jaw clenched and shoulders tense. “She may be intelligent, capable of planning and hunting, but ACU is specifically trained to recapture or neutralise any assets out of containment. It’s  _their job_  Mister Grady and I am trusting that they are more capable of carrying out their job than an animal is of out-smarting them.”

“God damn it Claire! It’s got nothing to do with ACU and their training! She’ll tear them apart!” Owen growled, a deep rumble that attracted wary looks from the nearest technicians to them and the ACU guys by the door to tighten their grips on their weapons. Like they’d actually be able to take him down with their glorified NERF guns. “I am an expert on predators and predatory behaviour. I work with  _velociraptors_  for Christ’s sake Claire! If you can’t trust my knowledge on this, then you can’t trust anyone’s! I know a hell of a lot more about instinct than most and a lot more than any academic who’s written a paper on ‘ _the instinctive behaviour of ferals’ and survival mechanisms_.’ You might not  _want_ to believe me Claire but for the sake of those men and women out there going after that thing with non-lethals, you  _have_ to. Or they’re going to die and  _you_  will be responsible for that!”

“That is enough Mister Grady,” Claire’s eyes burned and for a moment Owen swore he could see actual licks of flame in her blue eyes, but the sudden sharp sound of sparking equipment and the smell of burning caught the attention of the entire room.

One of the technicians cursed and pulled a small extinguisher from beneath his desk, muttering dire things about shoddy wiring and equipment as he proceeded to douse the sparking console with foam. The entire room was focused on his actions, but Owen’s senses were dialled high, had been since his run-in with the Indominus, and his attention was caught by the hitch in Claire’s breathing, the rapid thumping of her heart, the smell of fear coming off her.

The sound of the ACU team confirming they had reached the rendezvous point jolted her from whatever freak-out she had been having and Owen was left with the distinct feeling that Claire Dearing had more than a few secrets. And one of them had everything to do with equipment going haywire around her.

“She’s learning her place in the world Claire. And she’s going to quickly figure out that she is top of the food chain,” Owen warned quietly, voice a low growl as his Minnesotan accent slipping through as he spoke.

Claire stared at Owen with an unreadable expression on her face and Owen felt like running his hands through his hair and howling in frustration. She still didn’t get it! The Indominus was an apex predator and she was figuring that out. She was smart and large and she was most certainly on her way to being in charge. God, they were screwed.

The silence between them grew uncomfortable and before Owen could speak it was interrupted by one of the technicians, Vivian, speaking, “four-hundred metres until the beacon.”

Owen turned his attention to the screens at the front of the room, watching silently as the ACU team crept through the jungle. Masrani appeared in his peripheral and he glanced at the man, voice quiet and flat, “they’re going after her with non-lethals.”

Masrani looked at him, his gaze telling Owen a heck of a lot more than his words, “they have training, we have invested six-hundred million doors in that asset. We can’t just kill it.”

“Those men are gonna die,” Owen stated, looking harshly at Masrani who looked away from him, shame colouring his features before he hid it. But Owen could feel the man’s emotions, could sense the nature of his thoughts. Masrani agreed with him, but he was trying to salvage an unsalvageable situation for his company and the park. He was choosing hopeless delusion over cold reality and it made Owen want to grab him by the lapels of his jacket and shake some sense into him.

“Three hundred metres ‘til the beacon.” Vivian called out, watching her monitor with wide eyes.

Owen turned to face Claire, his gaze focused on her, “you need to call this mission off right now”

“They’re right on top of it!” Lowery said, tension in his voice as he typed on his console fervently.

Owen spun to stare at the screen, his voice rising as he stared in quiet horror at what he knew were going to be the last moments of Hamada and his team, “call it off right now!”

Finally, Claire spoke, her voice and pitch higher than usual as she bounced lightly on the spot, her eyes bright with anxiety and agitation, “you are _not_  in control here!”

One of the guys on screen knelt down, hand reaching out to grab something off the jungle floor and Owen hissed as he realised what it was. Hamada’s voice echoed in the control room, “blood’s not clotted yet. It’s close.”

“What is that?” Masrani stared at the screen, confusion painting his features.

“That’s her tracking implant, she clawed it out,” Owen answered, moving closer to the screens as he stared at the image of the blinking tracker.

“How would it know to do that?” Claire breathed, face slack as she stared with wide eyes at the screen, finally realising that the Indominus was not to be underestimated.

“She remembered where they put it in,” Owen explained distractedly, his entire being focused on the screens.

As they watched the screens, Hamada’s feed changed until he was looking up at something. Owen hissed softly as he realised that the Indominus was right there. There was a flare of horror and fear in the control room as everyone watching saw the Indominus move out from between the trees, her skin fading from pebbled greens to the sickly grey it usually was.

Hamada’s last words echoed in the control room as he screamed out and raised his weapon at the same time, “IT CAN CAMOUFLAGE!”

ACU didn’t stand a chance.

Hamada was first, then Meyers went down. Craig was snapped up between its jaws. Lee and Miller thrown by a swipe of her tail, dead before they hit the ground. Austin was slashed by her sharp claws, eviscerated where he stood. Spears eaten as he covered the escape of Cooper and the three remaining ACU members, bullets not even penetrating her thick hide. Cooper was the last, sacrificing himself so the remainder of the team could reach their vehicles and escape the area, stalling the Indominus long enough by diving underneath her and firing his gun into her underbelly.

In the control room silence rained, one of the technicians started gagging and fled the room, presumably heading for the nearest restroom. Owen swallowed thickly, blinking harshly as something flared in his gut, fire and ice and rage. He didn’t turn around, continued staring at the screen.

“I  _warned_  you,” Owen hissed as he sensed Claire step toward him, her steps faltering at the anger she could clearly hear in his words. “I  _told_  you. I begged you to listen. But no, can’t listen to the feral! Can’t listen to the  _one person in this fucking place_  that knows what it’s like to have instinct ripping at you twenty-four seven. That  _knows_  what it’s like to actually be shut up in a box with all those instincts screaming at you to fight and hunt and kill!  _Fuck_ , why would anyone listen to the only guy with any fucking knowledge right? That would be logical! That would be smart! But you’re not smart, are you?”

Masrani’s mutation reached out for him, instinctively responding to the rage Owen felt and he swatted it aside with a mental slash, not even concerned with the way Masrani slumped back against the consoles behind him, eyes wide and face pale. His attention was focused on Claire and her damned inability to just  _fucking_   _listen_.

Owen whirled, eyes blazing green and he could see the members of ACU by the doors’ moving, raising their weapons in preparation for firing if he did anything. But God he wanted to hurt someone, hunt and rip and tear and kill and-  _no_.

No not him. Not  _him_. The Indominus.

Fuck! It was happening  _again_.

“You’re idiots and you’re going to get us all killed because you wanted to play God,” Owen snarled, forcing himself to step away from Claire and the technicians who were oozing fear and- God that was not helping the situation! “I hope you’re happy with your asset Miss Dearing. I’m sure the guests are going to love it when it tears them apart.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned sharply on his heel, his eyes still blazing and he could feel his nails cutting into the palms of his hands as he stalked past the two ACU guys and out the Control Room.

 

* * *

 

The nearest staff room was unoccupied and Owen barrelled through the door, not caring that it hit the wall with enough force to crack the plaster.

He lashed out, rage and fire and  _hate_  burning in his gut, sending the metal table flying across the room. It hit the wall with a loud  _smash_  and he heard the sound of footfalls along the corridor.

“Don’t,” he said softly, his voice full of menace, as Claire and the two ACU guys stopped outside the door. “Don’t come in. I- I am not safe right now.”

Claire said nothing, just shook her head slightly at the two members of ACU who stepped back slightly. She focused on Owen, her eyes bright and Owen felt like reaching out and ripping her face with his claws.

No.

He  _refused_  to do that. To give in to instincts that weren’t his damn it!

“Fucking fuck, I fucking  _hate_  this shit,” Owen snarled as he spun on his heel, claws raking across the door of one of the cupboards by the sink, the wood splintering from the speed and force.

“What’s wrong?” Claire asked, her voice more tentative and wary than he’d ever heard it before and Owen’s head snapped up, eyes locking onto her at the change.

“Don’t. Don’t sound like that.  _Please_ ,” Owen whispered, snarls trying to force their way out of his mouth that he ruthlessly suppressed. He was not going to be a victim of a fucking psychopathic dinosaur’s homicidal instincts. Fuck that.

“Like what?” Claire said, looking at him in concern.

“Like prey,” Owen snarled, glaring at her as he moved as far away from the door as possible until his back was pressed against the wall. “I can’t- This is hard enough without you sounding like that. I’m trying so fucking hard not to give in right now and you’re not helping with that.”

“Give in to what?” Claire asked, her voice less uncertain but still wary. It helped but it wasn’t enough for Owen to not want to launch himself at her and  _rip her throat out_. Fuck not him damn it. Not. Him. “Your instincts?”

Owen laughed, shaking his head viciously as he dug his claws into the wall, feeling it give under his strength. “Not mine.”

He knew she didn’t understand. No one could really. They all thought he was a simple feral. High class but not outstanding mutant. Normal. Typical.

He was anything but.

“The Indominus,” Owen bit out, forcing himself to close his eyes even as his instincts tried to make him focus his attention on the door. On the threats. On the prey. “Her instincts are pretty fucking strong Claire. God she’s so  _strong_.”

He slid down the wall, body losing its tension and strength as he finally felt the foreign instincts start to fade, his mind pushing them back, out and away. His own still clambered at him to remain alert, to watch the threats at the door, but he’d spent twenty-plus years dealing with his own instincts and it was easy to ignore them.

“ _Fucking hell,_ ” He murmured, eyes slipping shut as exhaustion dug at him and he felt a flare in his mind from the pack. His girls. They would have been affected too. Maybe through him. Maybe on their own.

“Call Barry. Check on the girls,” He rasped. God, he was tired. So damned tired.

“Owen?” Claire’s heels clicked softly on the floor of the staffroom, the heavier footfalls of one of the ACU guys behind her and Owen forced himself to open his eyes as they approached.

“No further,” He ordered, voice firm as he pushed his exhaustion back. They stopped immediately, Claire keeping her eyes fixed firmly on Owen’s face. “I- I’m better now but I’m  _exhausted_  Claire. Instinct will have me defend myself from anyone right now before I’ll be able to stop myself. I might not be happy with you right now but I don’t want to maul you just because I can’t _fucking control myself_.”

Claire frowned at the bitterness she heard in his last words, biting her tongue to stop herself from commenting.

“Okay. What do you need then?” She decided to focus on what else she could do, if approaching Owen wasn’t possible then at least making him feel more comfortable could be done.

“Just leave the room, close the door. I need to rest but I can’t- I can’t do that with anyone in here right now.  _I just can’t,_ ” Owen confessed, his last words coming out as a frustrated snarl at his own inability to just control himself. “I was not expecting this to happen.”

Claire nodded and looked over her shoulder at the ACU guy behind her, his weapon still raised. She gave him a slow nod and, while visibly unhappy with her silent command, he dutifully backed out of the room to stand at the doorway.

Claire took a measured breath before she spoke. “What happened just now Mister Grady?”

Owen stared at her, face blank at the sudden return to formalities before he blinked slowly and answered her question.

“I’m a latent telepath. Picked up on the Indominus when she escaped. Picked up on her again just now as she turned ACU response into paste,” he answered flatly, eyes the flat green they usually were unless his temper flared.

Claire flinched minutely at the mention of what happened to the ACU team she’d authorised to go after the Indominus, but she pushed on despite it.

“That is not in your file Mister Grady,” she sounded faintly disapproving but also a little guilty and Owen picked up on the scent of fear from her again.

Interesting.

“There’s a lot of things that aren’t in my file Miss Dearing,” Owen replied flatly, not rising to the bait—mainly because he was too damned tired and his instincts were slowly adapting to accepting Claire as a ‘not-threat’ to him. “I was tested as a kid and found to be a feral. Didn’t manifest anything else until I was in my twenties. Didn’t think much of it since it’s rare it happens, and never for more than a few minutes at a time.”

“So, this incident is an exception to the norm?” Claire hedged, hoping Owen was going to just say ‘yes’ and that she could note it down and then move on.

“Situation changed about six months ago. Been having weird dreams and waking up feeling angry and wanting to hunt. The girls have been agitated as well for about as long,” Owen continued, voice still flat as he spoke but his eyes shone faintly with the luminescent green that made Claire’s heart beat faster. “Probably bout as long as the Indominus has been up and about I’m guessing?”

Claire didn’t answer but her lack of a response was answer enough for Owen who snorted and looked away from her, gaze coming to rest on the sofa in the corner of the room opposite him. It had a clear view of the door and was covered on two sides offering more security than the floor he was currently sat on. Moving slowly, he stood up, gritting his teeth to not react to the distinct sound of a safety disengaging.

Claire froze where she was stood, not even breathing for a moment before her reason returned. Owen snorted again at her automatic response to him now, she hadn’t reacted like that in the Control Room when he’d been  _snarling_  at her. He made his way slowly to the sofa, climbing onto it and lying down on his side so he could clearly see the door and Claire who was still stood in the middle of the room.

“I’m not going to eat you,” He quipped, darkly amused at her response. He was a feral, just as much a predator as his girls, fear got his blood pumping like it would any other predatory animal. “Might chew on your leg though,” he added just to see her glare at him, her fear fading as her frustration rose.

“I will leave you to your rest Mister Grady,” Claire said, trying to sound composed and unaffected but Owen could still hear her heartbeat and he suppressed the urge to laugh at her. Claire Dearing was a strange woman indeed to fear him when he was calm and accepting of her presence in his sequestered territory but not when he was hissing and spitting in her face.

“Two hours,” Owen called as she reached the door, her heels clicking on the tile. At her expectant stare, he added. “Call me in two hours. I’ll be rested by then and a lot more useful. The Indominus is going to need to be taken down Claire. And you’re going to need me.  _Now_  more than ever.”

She stared at him for a long moment, face unreadable, before she gave him a slow nod. Owen didn’t grin at the admission from her that she needed him, that she needed to listen to him. But it was a damned near thing.

 

* * * 

 

Masrani leaned against the console, watching silently as Claire returned to the control room with one of the ACU members behind her. She moved to stand beside him, silently checking he was recovered from whatever the hell had just happened. He gave her a slight nod before asking quietly, “how is Mister Grady?”

“Exhausted,” Claire replied, her eyes on the screen that now showed a selection of security feeds from the Park and the current live count of guests. Over twenty-one thousand people on the island. Twenty-one thousand. God this was a disaster. “He’s resting currently but asked to be woken in two hours.”

“Then he will be woken in two hours,” Simon nodded to Claire’s unasked question. He was not about to disregard the man or his experience just because of a mild instinctive response to what Simon himself had felt distantly. His mutation enabled him to charm people, charisma was his super-power he liked to say, but in truth it was low-grade empathy and emotion manipulation. He could encourage feelings of positive emotions and calm in people, and had used that ability many time over the years in board meetings and tense situations. He had not expected Owen Grady to be so resistant to his ability, only telepaths were resistant.

Telepath’s… could he? No. Owen Grady was an Alpha-level feral. That’s all he was. Perhaps he had a rare immunity to telepathic and empathetic probing? Some ferals had been reported as possessing such an ability over the years, though they were usually classed as Omega’s with highly unstable secondary mutations. It wasn’t possible.

Was it?

“Okay, I’m going to close everything north of the Resort. This is a Phase One: Real World. Bring everyone in,” Claire’s voice rang out in the quiet of the control room, her voice wavering slightly as everything really sunk in. They were going to be dealing with a highly dangerous situation, an unknown quantity, and Claire was honestly uncertain as to how it would turn out. She hoped it wouldn’t blow up in her face but no matter what Owen Grady believed, she didn’t purposefully ignore reality. She accepted this was a dangerous situation, knew there were risks, but she refused to act rashly and out of fear. Calm, rational thinking would save the day. And ACU with access to the lethals in the armoury as well perhaps…

Vivian nodded at her, reaching up to press her headset tighter against her head as she spoke into the mic, “this is a Phase One: Real World. I repeat this is a Phase One: Real World. Bring everyone back in.”

Lowery was silent, for once unable to come up with something funny or witty to say about the entire situation. He glared down at his monitor, eyes narrowing as he contemplated the existence of the Indominus. Why had the thing been given the green light anyway? And what the hell was it made of?

No-one could ever accuse Lowery Cruthers are being lazy or unwilling to put in the time to get answers, and with a small glance around he reached out with his own mutation and began searching through the internal servers of Masrani Co. and InGen, looking for any trace of data on the Indominus and whatever the hell else they’d been working on.

 

* * *

 

Wu exited his private lab, making sure the door shut behind him and inputting his personal security code just as the overhead speakers made an announcement that caught his attention.

_“Due to technical difficulties, all our exhibits are now closed.”_

Turning to watch as the guests steadily left the lab level in a constant stream, Wu noticed that Simon was stood staring at him, his brow furrowed and something shining in his eyes that had Wu’s heart beating faster.

‘ _Not again_ ,’ he thought. ‘ _God not again_.’

Giving Simon a slow nod, Henry moved in the direction of his office, absent-mindedly flicking on the kettle to start boiling water, two small teacups levitating off the side and coming to rest neatly on his desk. He busied himself with adding tealeaves to the pot he kept by his desk, adding the water once it had boiled, and was just starting to pour the tea into the two cups as Simon entered his office.

Neither of them spoke for a long moment as Simon sat down opposite Henry as he finished pouring the tea. Setting the pot back on the side, Henry sat down and reached for his cup, taking a deep breath and allowing the scent of jasmine tea to calm his nerves.

“What was used to make the Indominus Henry?” Simon finally asked, his voice low and his dark eyes shined with thinly concealed worry. It made Henry sigh internally.

“You know I’m not at liberty to discuss to reveal the asset’s genetic make-up,” Henry hedged, giving Simon a meaningful look that he knew the other man would understand, “modified animals are known to be unpredictable.”

Simon was quiet for a moment, staring at Henry before he spoke, “it’s killed people Henry.”

Henry’s breathing hitched and he looked down at his desk, “that’s unfortunate.”

“What purpose would we have for a dinosaur that can camouflage?” Simon asked and Henry’s head snapped up in surprise.

He hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was possible, “cuttlefish genes were added to help her handle an accelerated growth rate. Cuttlefish have chromatophores that allow their skin to change colour.”

Simon felt like cursing. Who thought that was a good idea?

He pushed aside the desire to put his head in his hands and added, “it hid from thermal technology.”

Henry stood slowly, eyes wide, eyebrows raised in surprise, “really?”

Simon nodded and watched as Henry moved slowly across the room until he was stood in front of his computer where he began typing. Standing slowly, Simon asked, “how is that possible?”

“Tree frogs can modulate their infrared output. We used strands from their DNA to adapt her to a tropical climate, but I never imagined-” Henry answered absently as he input several strings of unintelligible code into a command box, and Simon nearly jumped out of his skin as a piece of paper floated in front of his face.

KEEP TALKING LIKE NORMAL. AUDIO ONLY RECORDING.

“Who authorised you to do this?” Simon exclaimed, playing up his anger and indignation as he moved to stand beside Henry who gave him a sharp look. The paper floated down and landed between them, a pencil next to it that Henry picked up.

“You did,” Henry replied, words measured but with a clear undercurrent of frustration as he scribbled on the page.

INDOMINUS HAS T-REX BASE. MIXED DINO-COCKTAIL. SUCHO. SPINO. V-RAPTOR AS SECONDARY BASE. HIGH INTELLIGENCE WAS EXPECTED.

He continued to speak, voice becoming mocking as he raised his voice, “bigger. Scarier. ‘Cooler’ I believe is the word you used in your memo. You cannot have an animal with exaggerated predator features without the corresponding behavioural traits.”

Simon snatched the pencil from Henry’s hand, giving the man a glare as he realised just what the Indominus was made of. Save him from scientists!

I DID NOT SEND A MEMO.

“What you’re doing here? What you have done. The Board will shut down this park, shut down this lab, seize everything you’ve built. And Hammond won’t be there to protect you this time.” Simon near shouted, ire colouring his voice and making his accent thicker. His eyes were focused on Henry as the other man took the pencil back and continued writing.

HACKED. MAKES SENSE. INGEN PLAYING GAMES AGAIN. APPROACHED TO MAKE A WEAPON LAST YEAR. REFUSED. STRANGE THAT I-REX PROJECT SHOWED UP NOT LONG AFTER.

Henry scoffed, real anger burning in his eyes and Simon realised Henry was angry at the entire situation, “all of this exists  _because_  of me. If I don’t innovate, somebody else will.”

“You are to cease all activities here immediately.” Simon said in a more measured tone as he nodded slowly, his own eyes bright with anger. How dare InGen do this! How dare they!

Simon took the pencil from Henry when he offered and scrawled out a quick message.

WILL HAVE SOMEONE LOOK INTO IT. DISCRETELY. AVOID INGEN IF POSSIBLE HENRY.

Henry, refusing to let their ‘conversation’ end so soon exclaimed, “you are acting like we are engaged in some kind of mad science, but we are doing what we have done from the beginning.  _Nothing_  in Jurassic World is natural! We have  _always_  filled gaps in the genome with the DNA of other animals, and if their genetic code was pure, many of them would look quite different. But you didn’t  _ask_  for reality, you asked for ‘more teeth.’”

DATA ON I-REX ON MY PRIVATE SERVER. WILL MAKE SINGLE HARD COPY. KEEP IT SAFE.

“I never asked for a monster!” Simon cried, nodding at Henry’s words, barely even paying attention to the conversation between them now.

Henry gave him a tight-lipped smile, eyes still bright with anger, as he put the pencil down and put his hand on Simon’s arm, squeezing it lightly, “monster is a relative term. To a canary, a cat is a monster. We’re just used to being the cat.”

 

* * *

 

_“Hey there, I’m Jimmy Fallon and welcome aboard the gyrosphere…”_

Zach sighed at the video playing in the sphere, even as Gray looked around them, head whipping back and forth as he searched for the dinosaurs.

“Where are they?” he exclaimed in frustration just as the cleared the crest of the hill they’d been climbing for a solid five minutes.

Zach’s eyes widened as he stared in amazement at the scene below them, “oh man.”

Gray looked at him, grinning and wide-eyed in wonder as the sphere moved between the dinosaurs milling about. A Triceratops stood, deep rumbling breaths that Zach felt even in the sphere, shaking its head like a dog as it did so.

Two Stegosaur’s trundled across their path, the sphere automatically slowing and adjusting its path to avoid them, even while Zach and Gray watched the two open-mouthed. An Apatosaurus wondered past them, moving like an elephant but so much larger and more amazing it took Zach’s breath away. He might not have the same love for dinosaurs that Gray did, who looked like he might explode from excitement, but he couldn’t help but be awed by these creatures. They felt so…  _calm_.

_“Due to technical difficulties, all our exhibits are now closed. Please disembark all rides and return to the resort.”_

Zach looked at the screen, ignoring whatever Jimmy Fallon was doing, reading the text that was superimposed on the image and felt like cursing. _God damn it_. Gray’s entire aura changed, his emotions becoming darker and more muted as disappointment started to set-in and Zach glared at the screen because  _no_. No way.

“Come on, no. We can stay out a couple more minutes,” Zach said, voice artificially cheerful as he looked at his brother who stared at him in confusion, hope warring with bitter disappointment.

“But, they said it was closed,” Gray said and Zach smiled at him, raising his hand.

Waving his hand slightly, Zach drew Gray’s attention to the band on his wrist, and said, “Aunt Claire gave us special wristbands, right? VIP dude.” At Gray’s continued hesitance, Zach added, “come on, it’ll be fun.”

The smile he got was worth being shouted at by Aunt Claire and whoever else she roped into reprimanding them. With a smile of his own, Zach pushed the control stick of the sphere, and they both watched as the animals began moving, some of them breaking out into a run around them. It was  _amazing_.

The small spike of worry that crested over Zach’s shields made him frown for a moment before he purposefully ignored it, focusing instead on the sheer joy emanating from his brother as they moved through the valley surrounded on all sides by history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are forever appreciated (even if your comment is an extra kudos)
> 
> If you dislike how I've changed some of these scenes well... I'm really sorry but not really. I always saw Henry Wu as someone who was obsessed with his work, with leaving a legacy, but also as a man with at least some degree of empathy for life. I mean, it's so often the thing where scientists are these heartless, emotionless beings who don't care for the costs of their actions and, yeah, there's some in the world that _are_ like that but they're not the majority. Objectivity is a thing yes, and it's an important thing in any science, but I cannot believe that a man who made 'theme park monsters' that went on a homicidal rage once would not be wary of that happening again. I addressed this a few chapter's back, somewhat explaining my thinking of Henry's motivations. You see, I figure he's desperate to not only leave his mark on the world (who doesn't want to do that tbh) but also to not screw up and have a monster loose that can eat people all over again. I figure he's got NDA's coming out of his ass though, especially with the Indominus and can't really do anything about that. Unless he's sneaky, and come on, he's a genius scientist. Being sneaky isn't actually that difficult for most.


	12. Gentle Giants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That was a shitty way to wake someone up Claire. What the hell did you throw at me?”
> 
> “My shoe.”
> 
> “Your- what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter. Pretty soon after the last as well! I'm quite proud of myself.  
> This is definitely an AU now. Like, I'll still use some of the movie dialogue but, nothing is gonna be the same from this point on (except the Indominus is going to be very dead by the end because she's too fucking crazy to live).  
> Consider yourselves warned.

Claire stood watching the live-feeds from the Hammond Innovation Centre as people milled about inside, obviously annoyed at the sudden cancellation of the rides and exhibits outside the resort. It was while she was watching the feed, specifically a woman embracing her young daughter who had obviously got lost in the all the chaos of the sudden confinement to the resort, that she remembered.

Turn on her heel Claire pulled out her phone from one of the pockets she’d had her tailor specifically add to her outfit—all of her outfits—and hit speed dial.

“Zara,” Claire said as soon as her PA picked up. “I need you to bring the boys back to the hotel right away.”

The connection crackled with a low-level hum that spoke of a bad signal, which made no sense to Claire because Simon had made sure the signal on the Island was perfect, but she had no time to think on it because of Zara’s panicked words.

_“I can’t. I mean, I don’t know, I’ve been looking everywhere for them and it’s just been quite a while-”_

“Slow down, I can’t hear what you’re saying,” Claire cut across, frowning in worry, voice softening as she listened to the panicked breaths Zara was taking.

_“Zach and Gray. Claire… they’ve run off.”_

“They  _what_?” Claire exclaimed. “Zara stay in the resort. I’ll call Zach now, it’s not your fault.” She reassured her PA who was babbling apologies and sounded close to hyper-ventilating. “Zara I’ll call you back. Just, just stay in the resort.”

Hanging up Claire took a breath, trying to calm her racing heart. God what the hell! What were her nephews thinking?

Scrolling through her contacts Claire highlighted Zach’s number and hit the dial button, almost crushing her phone to her ear as she waited for an answer. When she got one she was not pleased with how flippant Zach sounded.

_“Hey Claire.”_

Worry overrode irritation however. “Zach thank God! Is Gray with you?”

 _“Yeah. I can’t really hear you, we’re in the hamster ball.”_ Zach’s words were difficult to hear, becoming fuzzy towards the last word and Claire was too worried and angry to really notice.

“Okay Zach. Listen to me. I need you to come back to the hotel right now okay?” She said hurriedly, her voice raising as she talked into her phone. A burst of static crackling made her wince and jerk the phone from her ear for a second before she jammed it back.

_“He-o?”_

“Zach!” Claire frowned, unable to hear her nephew properly and she called again. “Zach, can you hear me?”

The only reply she received was static and the dial tone.

“Oh no,” she breathed, turning on her heel and flying over to Lowery’s terminal. She thought she caught sight of a strange screen, almost like a flickering underlay to what was on top, but she blinked and it disappeared.

“Are there any gyrosphere’s left in the valley?” She asked him, leaning over his shoulder to look at the glowing blue screen of his console.

“No,” Lowery replied, offended at the very idea that he was missing a ‘sphere. “They should all be accounted for, it’s my job- what?” He blinked in confusion and pointed at the screen, “there’s one in the field still, how? They can’t be overridden by the guests!”

“VIP bands can override basic safety protocol,” Vivian pointed out and Claire felt like cursing. “It’s usually specifically deactivated in most of the ‘bands we hand out but not for the ones in storage.”

“Because that’s a smart thing to give to VIPs,” Lowery muttered sarcastically and Claire was seized with a sudden urge to hit him and also agree with him at the same time.

“Send a team of rangers, bring them in,” Claire ordered, looking at Vivian who nodded. She moved to stand behind her, hovering over her shoulder.

“Security, we need a Search and Rescue in the valley,” Vivian said into her radio, channel pre-set to the head of Park Security.

The frazzled sounding reply from Security did little to calm Claire’s nerves and she swore she could smell burning electronics as she listened.

“It’s gonna be a while. We’ve got our hands full here.”

“No! No, no, no,” Claire exclaimed, grabbing a second radio and near snarling into it. “There are  _two_  guests missing, you need to make  _this_  your top priority!”

Lowery’s mumbled “just do it man” made Claire want to set him on fire but she didn’t, too focused on the defensive reply from Security.

_“We’re doing the best we can here! I’m sorry!”_

“Okay fine, I’ll do it myself!” Claire glared and tossed the headset down and stormed out of the Control Room, flying past the staff room where Owen was still sleeping-

Owen.

Careening to a stop mid-stride Claire spun on her heel and hurried back to the staff room where Rian, one of the two ACU response men stationed in the Control Room was standing guard. It hadn’t quite been two hours since Owen had all but passed out on sofa in the room, but Claire figured desperate times called for desperate measures and all that nonsense.

She opened the door carefully however, well aware she was going to be waking up a very tired, very exhausted, possibly still injured, feral from the shortest nap he’d probably had in a long time. Contemplating what to do, she stood at the threshold of the room, staring at the sofa where a long, muscular mass was curled up into the equivalent of a human ball.

 _‘Please don’t kill me,’_  she thought before pulling off one of her heels and throwing it at the sofa, hitting Owen on the shoulder.

The reaction was instantaneous and Claire would be forever thankful that she had not decided to try and wake him up by touching him.

Snarling, claws extended, eyes burning flaming green. Owen Grady looked like every feral in those informational videos Claire had been forced to watch as a kid back in grade school. She still remembered how the entire class had avoided the one girl who had been identified as a feral for weeks after that.

Blinking rapidly, still snarling, his chest rumbling, Owen suddenly realised where he was and pulled everything back. He claws retracted, eyes faded to a dim green and the snarling slowly ceased until it was only Owen stood, knees bent slightly in a partial crouch.

“That was a shitty way to wake someone up Claire,” Owen said as he rose to his full height, running a hand over his face, the skin smooth and unbroken. “What the hell did you throw at me?”

Claire smiled, her heart still beating a thousand miles a second, unable to not feel a spark of amusement at the situation.

“My shoe.”

“Your- what?” Owen blinked owlishly, looking over at the sofa and realising that yes, Claire had indeed thrown her damned heeled shoe at him to wake him up. “That is- that’s honestly a first for me.”

“What’s wrong?” He asked, picking up the scent of worry emanating from the pale-clothed woman who’d fucking woken his ass up with a shoe. A shoe!

“I need your help,” Claire said bluntly, her worry for her nephews erasing the amusement she’d felt. “My nephews, they’re out in the valley.”

Owen stared at her, trying to understand.

“Please, if anything happens to them I don’t know what I’ll do,” Claire continued, voice trembling as she said those last words and something in Owen stood up and took notice. His instinct for danger was still active, pacing itself quietly beneath his skin, but now it was paying attention.

 _‘I have a pretty good idea of what you’d do Claire,’_ Owen thought as he stepped closer to her. “How old are they?”

Claire blinked, trying to find the answer, trying to remember what Karen had told her but she couldn’t. God, she was an awful aunt! “I don’t- uh, Zach’s high school age. Gray is uh-”

Owen didn’t sigh but he felt like it as he asked, incredulously. “You don’t know how old your nephews are?”

“No, I- I haven’t seen them for a while,” Claire admitted, sounding horrifically defensive even to her own ears and she blushed. “They’re here because my sister is getting a divorce. I can’t let anything happen to them, please Owen.”

“Okay.”

 

* * *

 

Zach slowed the ‘sphere they were in until it stopped. He looked at the fence before them and frowned.

“What happened here?” He said aloud, curiosity warring with caution before he turned to look at Gray and grinned. “Dude. Off road.”

Gray looked up at his brother, a frown marring his features. “But they told us to go back.”

Zach sighed, sensing that his brother was uncertain, a bit scared, but also incredibly curious as to what was on the other side of that fence. “You know,” Zach said airily as he affected an air of fake worry. “I’m just worried you’re not getting the full Jurassic World experience bro.”

Gray looked at him, hopeful delight obscuring his fear for the moment and Zach grinned.

Ten minutes later Gray had changed his mind as Zach nearly crashed them into  _another_  tree.

“Bad idea,” Gray exclaimed when Zach went to guide the ‘sphere through a far too small gap between the trees surrounding them. “Bad idea!”

Zach grinned as he deftly dodged the trees and corrected his brother, “ _great_  idea.”

Gray shook his head as he realised the entire thing they were doing was a big, bad, capital B, idea, “no. We gonna get arrested. They’ll shave our heads! And then we’ll have to make root beer in the toilet.”

“What?” Zach blinked and looked at his brother in genuine confusion. “What are you even  _talking_  about?”

“I saw it on TV once,” Gray replied, giving Zach a defensive look.

Zach shook his head, honestly concerned with what his kid brother was watching, and realised suddenly that they’d found what they’d been looking for. “There. See. I told you. Up close and personal with four dinosaurs, you’re welcome.”

He smirked in amusement, waiting for it and was hard pressed not to grin outright when Gray corrected him.

“Ankylosaurus,” Gray said absently as he stared at the four armoured dinosaurs. They were reminiscent of armadillo’s in a way, though with giant clubbed tails and weighing several tonnes each. “We shouldn’t be here.” He whispered suddenly, a strange, dark feeling of foreboding unfurling in his gut.

Zach was about to tell his brother, again, that they were fine, when Gray added, “and there’s  _five_  dinosaurs.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a genius Gray? There’s four. Look,” Zach said, pointing at each of the dinosaurs. “One, two, three, four.”

Gray raised a hand and pointed, not at the dinosaurs but at the glass of the ‘sphere. “Five.”

Zach stared at the reflection, horrified and so very scared because, holy shit. Holy shit. This wasn’t some fucking leaf-eater. That thing had  _teeth_.

Gray screamed, smacking Zach on the arm as the thing behind them opened its jaws and roared. “GO! GO! GO!”

Just as he grabbed the stick, they were kicked, the ‘sphere spinning round and round and making Zach want to puke until it slammed into one of the Ankylosaurs. It bounced off its side, hitting another before slowing enough for Zach to push the controls forward.

Just as they began to move a huge clubbed tail smashed into the front of the ‘sphere causing them both to scream.

Zach, overwhelmed by Gray’s fear and the incessant noise and feelings outside the ‘sphere couldn’t help but shout at his brother “Pull it together man! Gray! Calm down!”

They came to a stop suddenly, upside down and Zach tried to do something, anything to make the ‘sphere go but damnit, it wouldn’t move.

 _‘We’re stuck,’_  Zach thought, a horrible feeling settling in his gut.  _’Shit.’_

“We’re safe in here, right?” Gray asked, eyes wide as he hung upside down, staring at Zach.

“Yeah,” Zach replied, nodding and trying to sound reassuring. “Totally safe.”

They’d be fine so long as that thing didn’t bother with them. They watched as the Ankylosaurus in front of them brayed a challenge that was met with a roar that made them both cover their ears.

Gray looked away when the other dinosaur, the carnivore slashed the Ankylosaurs leg, rolled it on its back and dug its teeth into its neck. But looking away didn’t mean he escaped the resounding  _crack_  as it snapped its neck.

Zach watched though, unable to look away at the macabre sight. He watched as the carnivore’s head rose, looking around the clearing for another dinosaur. Just as he thought they would be safe, that it would leave–

 _BUZZ_!

 

* * *

 

Claire stared out of the window as she pressed her phone to her ear and chanted, “come on. Pick up, pick up, pick up.”

Owen looked at her out of the corner of his eye, keeping his attention mostly on the road and the surrounding area.

They were heading into the Valley and the  _Indominus_  could have easily been drawn to the loud noises the Apatosaur herd made as they called to each other. The smell of a collection of animals, just ripe for the pickings for something as powerful and deadly as the Indominus… well, Owen highly doubted they were going to find a pleasant sight.

There was already the scent of death on the air.

“No answer?” He guessed when Claire cursed and dropped her phone into her lap, resting her elbow on the window frame.

“No,” she replied curtly and Owen took no offence. He could smell, and feel, the worry pouring off her. She was honestly terrified for her nephews, and Owen figured she had every right to be.

There was a damned murderous hybrid out there, heck  _he_  was scared.

“We’ll find them,” he said quietly, and he was aware when Claire gave him a long, measuring look, considering his words. She thought he was saying them to calm her, to reassure her.

He wasn’t.

Turning his head, he looked at her, eyes locking, and repeated himself, “we’ll find them.”

Something in his face convinced her. Or maybe it was his eyes. Claire nodded and picked up her phone again, hitting redial as she did.

 

* * *

 

Straining against the straps that kept him in his seat, Zach cursed silently as he saw his phone light up, vibrating as Aunt Claire called,  _again_.

“Zach.”

“Almost got it,” Zach muttered, stretching as much as possible, fingers scant a centimetre from the phone.

“ _Zach_.”

“Yeah?” He replied, just about to touch the screen. If he could just-

“Look.”

Something in Gray’s voice, maybe it was the urgency, maybe it was the fear, Zach couldn’t really tell, made him look away from the phone.

His breath left his lungs.

His heart pounded.

“Oh,” he whispered, wide-eyed.  _’Oh shit.’_

The carnivore, whatever it was, even Zach could recognise a T-Rex on sight, stared at them through the glass. Its eye was a strange muddy amber, not quite brown, and not the reptilian orange Zach expected of most dinosaurs. It narrowed its gaze, almost glaring at them, and Zach had a single, terrifying moment of clarity as the dinosaur pulled the ‘sphere around, spinning it until they were facing it.

A single, huge claw smashed into the glass of the ‘sphere, tearing through it like it was paper and they screamed. It pulled its claw out, spinning the ‘sphere again until they were facing away from it and Zach felt terror bubbling up, trying to claw its way up his throat.

But adrenaline was pounding through his system and it kept him from becoming a useless mess as they both screamed.

The carnivore opened its jaws, impossibly wide, and then they were in its mouth. Tear digging into the glass, breaking it, bending the metal slowly with the pressure it was exerting.

It lifted the ‘sphere up in the air a few feet and then slammed it back down.

Then it did it again.

And again.

Zach reached over, hitting the emergency release on Gray’s restraints, snapping his own open at the same time, and they both tumbled out of the ‘sphere as it rose again.

They landed on the jungle floor, and Zach pulled Gray close, bringing his legs close and ducking his head as the ‘sphere smashed down around them before rising.

“Go!” He said, pulling Gray up by his shirt and dragging his brother as they ran from the carnivore.

It took it a moment to realise its quarry was no longer in the ball and it dropped it, letting out a screech before it barrelled after them.

“Go! Go!” Zach shouted, as he pushed Gray ahead of him.

The carnivore thundered after them, and as they burst through the trees out into a small clearing, Zach looked behind them. The dinosaur exploded out of the trees, leaves flying from the trees, stripped by the sheer force it generated as it ran.

They skidded to a halt as they reached the top of a waterfall, the water thundering in their ears and making Zach’s head pound.

Grabbing Gray’s shoulders, he looked at his brother and said, “we’re gonna have to jump.”

“I can’t!” Gray exclaimed, shaking, and Zach looked behind them. The carnivore was still coming, eating up the distance.

“Are you ready?” He said, holding Gray’s arm as he stood and looked down at the water a good twenty or thirty feet below them. “One.”

The carnivore was almost upon them.

“Two.”

They jumped.

The carnivore’s jaws snapped shut on empty air as they fell.

The water was a shock. Sudden and cold but it was deep and Zach reached out, grabbing Gray’s hand.

Above them the carnivore was waiting, Zach knew.

But it wouldn’t wait forever.

Carnivore’s didn’t wait around for prey, not if it escaped and there were other targets around. Even Zach knew that.

They waited. Beneath the surface, holding their breath until they were forced to surface.

Swimming to the shore, Zach helped Gray drag himself out of the water and they lay in the wet mud, breathing heavily.

“You jumped,” Zach huffed out a tired laugh, staring at his brother who grinned at him.

“Yeah.”

“Not bad man,” Zach smiled, laughing as he slumped back on the mud for a minute.

They lay like that for a minute or so before Zach forced himself to stand. His legs felt weak, shakey and his hands shook with fine tremors. He ignored them, helping Gray to stand.

“Come on,” he said. “Probably not a good idea to hang around here.”

Together they moved into the jungle before them, careful to keep an eye out for anything large, white and with lots of teeth.

 

* * *

 

Owen slowed the truck to a stop, shutting off the engine and grabbing his short-barrel rifle from the back. Opening his door, he climbed out and looked at Claire.

“Stay in the car.”

Moving swiftly, he covered the small distance between the truck and his focus, dropping to his knees.

One of the Apatosaurs. God.

She was lying on her side, slashes on her legs, side and stomach. Breathing laboured, she was too exhausted to do anything but breathe and watch him as he placed gentle hands on her thick hide.

“Shh, it’s okay girl,” he mumbled soothingly, running his hands along her neck slowly and gently.

The sound of a door opening and shutting didn’t surprise him, so he didn’t watch as Claire carefully approached. She knelt down in front of him, reaching out slowly and placing her hand on the Apatosaurs neck, just under its head.

A raspy bray and she tried to raise her but didn’t have the strength to do more than lift it a few inches from the ground.

“Hey, no shh girl,” he reassured, using his hands to guide her head back to the ground. His natural strength made it a simple task of helping support her head so she didn’t collapse back.

She was dying, she didn’t deserve further discomfort.

They both ran their hands on her head, watching in silence as her breathing became more and more laboured. Owen listened to the sound of her great heart slowing further.

_Thump…thump…_

_Thump…thump…_

_Thump…_

He rose slowly, pressing a hand on the Apatosaurs neck one last time, before he picked up his rifle.

Owen stood at the crest of the hill, staring at the valley below. Some part of him was horrified. The more feral part of him was a numb, shock-like angry. Claire came to stand beside him.

“It didn’t eat ‘em,” he said, unnecessarily. Staring down at the half a dozen dead Apatosaurs in the valley, some Trikes as well, he knew his eyes were shining bright green. “It’s killing for sport.”

 _‘Like a human,’_  he thought, a snarl trying to work its way out of his clenched jaw and he pushed it back. Instead it settled in his chest, causing him to rumble deeply with a near sub-vocal growl.

Claire noticed it but she was staring out at the valley, eyes shock-wide and blank. Her gaze was riveted on the Apatosaurs below them.

Owen carefully, and slowly reached out and placed a hand on her arm. She flinched, blinking and she looked at him, so much emotion in her eyes. He didn’t say anything, just gently guided her away from the scene and back to the truck.

They got back into the truck in silence, and it was only broken when Owen started the ignition, the low rumble of the engine breaking the unnatural silence of the valley. It was enough for Claire to pick up her phone from where she’d left it on the dash, and call Control.

“Clean up in the valley,” she said in a monotone. “The Indominus has killed several of the Apatosaurs and some Triceratops.”

Then she hung up and stared out the window, seeing none of the greenery or the bodies of gentle giants laying on sullied grass as they headed towards the location the gyrosphere had last pinged its location as.

 

* * *

 

On a remote beach to the East of the resort a half dozen landing crafts were resting on the shore, their contents steadily being deposited onto the beach. A makeshift emergency command had been set up and Hoskins walked across the yellow sand, grinning.

A narrow-faced man in a dark shirt was walking behind him, struggling to keep up with Hoskins brisk walk.

“Units are on standby, ready for the go,” the man, Ellis said.

“Good,” Hoskins looked at the amassed gear that he’d managed to convince the Board to send with such short notice. “Hold off on that live-feed for a while. We’ve got a situation here we can use.”

The man nodded, not that Hoskins could see. “They give you a green light yet?”

“They will,” Hoskins replied, stepping beneath the hastily erected field tent into the relative cool of his makeshift command. “Have we got access to Park feeds yet?”

“Not yet sir,” came the reply and Hoskins frowned.

“Well hurry it up!” He said. “We haven’t got all day people!”

“We’ll have it in a few minutes sir,” the same voice replied as Hoskins stood in the centre of the tent, watching silently with a manic light in his eyes.

It was good to be king.

 

* * *

 

Back in the Control Room, Lowery frowned as he saw, through the first layer on his screen, something that did not belong. Something that was invading.

Thinking quickly, recognising the data stream as distinctly InGen in origin, Lowery let it in. He piggybacked the intrusion, following it back to its source, and sent out his own feelers through the network, looking, scanning, searching and compiling everything and anything he could reach.

InGen might be in his system now, but only because he’d  _let_   _them_  in the first place.

Now they were going to learn not to play in someone else’s sandbox.

 

* * *

 

Up on the outcrop overlooking the beach, Barry watched as men and women milled about below, moving equipment and supplies from the landing crafts.

Lowering his binoculars, Barry lifted up his walkie-talkie and spoke into it.

“Owen, we have a situation.”

A burst of static was his response and Barry frowned, then sighed. Of course, they would disrupt transmissions. It would stop them from calling for help, or emergency Evac for the civilians on the Island.

Whatever InGen, and Hoskins in particular, were up to, Barry was not going to allow it to stand. Not without a response.

Climbing down from the outcrop was simple, something Barry could do in his sleep. He’d been raised in such an environment, and it showed in how comfortable he was in travelling through the jungle, a silent hunter.

There was much Barry had done growing up, many things he had learnt in the jungle. And many more he had learnt as a mercenary, as a tracker, as a trainer. He had been many things over the years, and he never forgot a single thing he learned, saw or heard. Such was his talent. Such was his gift.

And right now, he was going to use it.

He knew the quickest routes through the jungle, the fastest trails. The places where nothing would bother him, with no hidden dangers he would have to be wary of. And so, what would have taken others at least two hours of constant travel, took Barry less than one.

It was a head-start he needed, and one he was going to put to the most use.

Whatever InGen were doing, they had disrupted primary communication on the Island, that much was obvious. But they still needed to communicate with each other. That meant predesignated frequencies. Someone with more proficiency with technology could probably learn what those frequencies were, but Barry ignored them entirely. Didn’t even try and figure them out.

Instead he entered the Den, and opened a specific draw, pulling out a single walkie talkie that was at least ten years old. It was set to run on less used frequencies, shorter bandwidths that no one ever really bothered with anymore. Not since the invention of the digital radio.

Owen had the other one of the set.

Raising it, Barry spoke the same words again, “Owen, we have a situation here.”

This time he got a response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated.  
> In fact, they're adored.  
> As are Kudos.
> 
>  
> 
> Next chapter should be up next week...end (maybe).


	13. Stroll through the Jungle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A silent jungle was a deadly jungle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a long-time waiting hasn't it hmm? I'm so sorry for that. Lots of things have distracted me from this fic and for that I can only repeatedly apologise.

“What is it Barry?” Owen stood in the valley, staring at the half dozen Apatosaurs strewn across the large clearing. Claire was beside him, trying to not look as devastated as she was at the death of such gentle beings.

 _“We have a situation brewing on the Eastern side of the Island.”_  Barry’s voice was muffled, as though he were talking from far away and Owen realised why.

“Is it anything to do with the interference we’re getting on comms?” Owen asked, looking at Claire who stared at him in confusion.

_“I think so my friend. Hoskins has invited some guests and they’re setting up on the Eastern coast. The one you took the girls to once.”_

Owen cursed mentally. Fucking Hoskins.

 _‘I’m going to break that fucking asshole’s face,’_  he thought as Claire glared at him. Apparently, she hadn’t been informed of the beach outing he’d taken the pack on a few years ago. What a surprise.

“Okay, keep an eye on the Barry. Check in with Control, discretely,” Owen ordered, turning on his heel and heading back to the truck, Claire following behind. “Claire is primary contact.”

“ _Oui, be careful Owen_.” Barry agreed, his voice low and there was an undercurrent of warning there.

While Barry wasn’t a registered mutant, Owen had learnt to listen to his friend’s warnings over the years he’d known him. If Barry felt something wasn’t right, it usually wasn’t and it paid to be careful.

“I will, Grady Out,” Owen promised before shutting off the radio and holding it out for Claire to take.

“Go back to Control,” Owen said, ordered really but he tried to soften the instinctive commanding quality of his nature. “Make sure Hoskins is watched, and that beach too. I’ll look for your nephews.”

“Excuse me?” Claire exclaimed, shoulders rising as she drew herself up. There was a spark of pure indignation flaring up in her and Owen took a breath and tried to ignore his awareness of it.

“Look we can’t ignore Hoskins, Claire,” Owen said quickly and firmly. “He’s an opportunist and obsessed with making war. If neither of us are at Control to watch him, the bastard will run wild.”

“Mister Masrani-” Claire started but Owen cut her off.

“Is a CEO who knows barely anything about the day-to-day running of this Park.  _You_   _do_  Claire,” Owen continued, staring her in the eye and trying to get her to realise what he was saying. “ _You_  know protocol,  _you_  know procedure. You have the respect of every damn employee on this Island. Hoskins doesn’t have that, but he’s got a lot of bluster and can bully others into doing what he wants. But he can’t bully you, and he can’t bully _anyone_   _else_  if you’re there because everyone will defer to you automatically.”

“But Zach and Gray-” Claire tried to say but Owen cut her off again, this time looking at her with sympathy in his eyes.

“As cruel as this sounds: they’re two people Claire,” Owen said, his voice softening as he watched her. “There’s twenty thousand people on this Island and the  _Indominus_  will kill every last one of ‘em if we can’t stop her. You can’t do anything here Claire, your arena is where Hoskins is gonna try and take over. And if he manages that, your nephews will be in more danger than they already are.”

“You don’t know that,” Claire refuted, glaring at him angrily.

“I  _do_  know that,” Owen replied, gripping his rifle tightly. He was glad it was reinforced alloy otherwise it would have been a twisted mess years ago from his enhanced strength. “Hoskins has been on my ass about the girls for months now. He wants them to be turned into weapons for war. And he’ll take the opportunity of the Indominus escaping to push for that. Or to even push for the Indominus itself being repurposed for war.”

Claire opened her mouth, speechless. What Owen was saying, what he was telling her, it sounded impossible. Mad.

It sounded far too likely for her tastes.

“You don’t deal with Hoskins often Claire, no one in Command does,” Owen continued, quieter but no less firm and determined. “I do. I know him, know how he thinks ‘cause he’s like others I’ve met that have caused so much damage and so much death. Don’t focus on yourself right now Claire, not when your job is to take care of everyone on this Island.”

Claire blinked back tears, feeling like hollow. She couldn’t just abandon her nephews. What would her sister think? What would happen to them? What if they were already-

“It’s a shit thing to tell you, and it’s an even shittier thing to have to do I know,” Owen said, something dark and aching showing in his eyes. It wasn’t something Claire could name, but if she had to, she’d call it grief. The sort of grief that comes from failing someone, and losing them before making up for the failure. “But you’re the  _only_   _one_  that can keep Hoskins out, because no one will listen to him if you’re around. Especially if you have Masrani backing you.”

They stared at each other in silence. Owen was breathing heavily, as though he was being crushed by an invisible weight, while Claire was barely breathing at all. Every breath hurt. This wasn’t an easy decision to make. It  _shouldn’t_  be easy to make. But Owen was right. She had a job to do.

“Okay,” Claire whispered, feeling like she was missing something inside at the agreement. Her capitulation to abandon her nephews in the jungle while the monster she’d helped make was out there making her skin feel tight and foreign. “Okay.”

 _‘Zach, Gray. I’m so sorry,’_  she thought as she took the radio from Owen’s outstretched hand and clipped it to her belt.  _’I’m so, so sorry.’_

 

* * *

 

Watching the Claire drive off in the truck, back towards Control, Owen took a deep breath. That was the shittiest thing he’d ever done to her, including that God-awful date back when he first started, but it had been the right thing to do.

Like most things in Owen’s life, it was also the most difficult and emotionally damaging thing to do.

 _‘Good intentions and all that shit,’_  Owen thought darkly as he scrubbed his face with a hand, his other hand gripping his rifle.  _’Fuck.’_

There were two kids in the jungle, running from the  _Indominus_ , and he was about to follow them.

“Oh, I hope I find them instead of her,” he muttered as he stared at the ground darkly. Knowing his luck, he’d find her instead.

Letting his eyes slip closed, Owen tried to centre himself in his mind, willing himself to relax. It wasn’t easy to do, near impossible when he was surrounded by dead animals and the scent of sickness and death and the onset of decay, but he managed it well enough.

With his mind quieted he was able to purposefully cast out, searching.

Naomi had guided him through it once, not long after they’d discovered he’d somehow picked up her ability. It wasn’t as strong as hers, not as pronounced, but it had been startling enough that she’d spent a good two days forcing him to build shields to protect his mind.

Shields, he hadn’t actually done all that good a job on, and in hindsight he understood why.

Born telepaths had natural shields, unlike everyone else, but those shields strengthened from use and from the necessity of maintaining sanity. Since Owen had somehow managed to pick up the ability instead of being born with it, he’d had to work twice as hard to build shields in the first place.

With Naomi’s death, his telepathic ability had increased tenfold and he’d been forced to rebuild his shields, basing their existence on his childhood shields. It was imperfect and, since his telepathy seemed to come and go, he hadn’t had to continually strengthen his shields over time like born telepaths had to.

As a result, when he reached out, or was caught unawares by a sudden surge in his telepathy, Owen usually found himself battling one hell of a migraine afterwards for days.

If he thought he could track them, find them using his feral abilities, he would have. It was infinitely easier and far less taxing, but Owen had the sense that the sooner he found the kids, the safer they’d be.

The safer  _he’d_  be.

He picked up an echo, not far from where he was, and further on something that his mind always translated to a blip on sonar.

He’d found them.

Opening his eyes, Owen slung his rifle over his shoulder and set off at a light jog, heading for the broken fence a few hundred yards to his left. The kids had gone through it in the ‘sphere. If they were fine, Owen was perfectly prepared to give them a dressing down worthy of his drill sergeant.

If they weren’t…

An Ankylosaur burst out of the bushes to his right just beyond the broken fence, and he threw himself to the side. Crouched on all fours, eyes glowing and fangs descended, Owen watched as it barrelled through the broken fence and off across the open valley.

Carefully alert for danger, Owen rose up and made his way through the dense jungle underbrush. There were birds in the trees and while they were quiet, the fact that they were making their presence known, reassured him.

A silent jungle was a deadly jungle.

The crumpled remains of the gyrosphere were easy for him to see, in the middle of a small clearing. Shattered glass was strewn about its twisted metallic structure, and it kept emitting static in between bursts of the pre-recorded message all of the ‘spheres played.

It was loud in the quiet clearing and Owen was instantly on the alert.

The  _Indominus_  had been here.

Her scent was thick and cloying to his senses, Owen grimaced at the smell. She smelt of madness and death, something Owen had the unfortunate experience of having smelt before he’d ever come across her.

The results of that experience still gave him nightmares.

Owen knelt down beside the ‘sphere, noticing a small black device with a cracked screen. Picking it up he realised it was a phone, probably one of the kids.

If Claire had been with him she might have been able to tell him whose it was, but the sight of tracks in the mud caught Owen’s attention and he rose swiftly, shoving the phone into one of his vest pockets.

Forcing himself to filter out the scent of the Indominus, Owen focused on the smell from the ‘sphere. The scent of sweat and sugary candy, of cotton and flannel, of hair product and cologne.

Focusing on all of that, and ignoring the  _Indominus’_  scent, Owen moved quickly, following the path the kids had took through the jungle until the trees ended and he found himself overlooking a waterfall with a twenty-foot drop.

 _‘Brave kids,’_  he thought with a small smile, feeling proud of kids he hadn’t even met. All because they’d jumped.

The Indominus had found them and then chased them through the jungle. But they’d jumped and she had left for other quarry in the jungle. Down on the bank of the river below Owen’s sharp eyes picked out where the kids had dragged themselves to shore.

Deciding not to take the direct route, Owen descended the side of the waterfall quickly, able to grip the rock with his clawed fingers. The volcanic rock was firm and didn’t crumble under the strength of his claws, but there were deep gouges in it.

Since the kids had jumped into the water, following their scent would be useless, so Owen focused on visual signs of their path. They ‘blip’ on his mental sonar map placed them due North of his position, but he wanted to follow their route, make sure there were no signs of the  _Indominus_ along it.

She wasn’t in the area, not at present, and it was the only reason for his decision. If she had shown up on his map, he would have chosen the most direct route to the kids for their safety. But he didn’t want to disturb the jungle too much, so following their path would create less problems for him, and that way he wouldn’t attract the Indominus’ attention if she wandered close enough for him to sense her.

 

* * *

 

Zach watched as his brother crouched down and picked something off the ground. He moved closer and realised it was a helmet, one that he’d seen some of the Park workers wear. White with the blue Park logo. There was a long crack in the top of it and something red splattered across it.

He didn’t think it was paint.

The sound of Gray’s laboured breathing, the first sign that his brother was about to hyperventilate, had him pulling the helmet from Gray’s hands and tossing it on the ground behind him.

Gray stared at him, and Zach put his hand on his shoulder, trying to reassure him without words.

For the first time in his life, Zach purposefully reached out to his brother with his ability, sensing the panic and fear and worry and a million other emotions vying for conscious recognition. Locking his gaze with Gray, Zach pushed at those emotions, dampening them like he was throwing a wet blanket on a fire, and at the same time he tried to encourage calmer emotions in his brother.

It was difficult and felt like it took forever, but his brother was calming rapidly, breathing returning to a more natural rate, heart slowing and the tumultuous emotions he could sense in his brother died down.

“Thanks,” Gray muttered at him and Zach nodded dumbly.

He’d done it.

He’d actually done it.  _On purpose_.

Shaking off his shocked amazement, Zach looked around them, the jungle alive with animals that all radiated dimly to his empathetic ability. About twenty metres from them was a buggy, one of the ways that the guests could traverse the Park. It was partly embedded in the trunk of the large tree it seemed to have impacted, the framework twisted and broken.

“Stay here,” Zach said quietly, moving slowly towards the buggy. Behind him he heard the sound of his brother following him.

There was nothing nearby that was a danger to them, nothing that pinged on Zach’s senses as deadly, and he wondered for a moment why the carnivore from before hadn’t registered.

Looking out into the jungle around them, Zach narrowed his eyes and realised that there was a building near them. One that had been abandoned a long time ago judging by how thick the jungle was around it.

Gray followed behind him, nearly attached to his back, as he pushed the moss-covered door open, ducking under a vine that snaked across the frame.

“Wow.”

They stared at the wide room, covered in foliage, vines hanging from the ceiling, obviously having come through the ring of windows set high up in the centre of the ceiling.

It reminded him of the Innovation Centre back in the resort.

“The original visitor centre,” Gray murmured, awed by the sight.

They moved further into the room, and Zach looked down when he kicked something heavy with his foot. Leaning down he picked up a large bone and hefted it up. As long as his arm, it was curved and reminded him of a cat’s claw.

 _‘This is from a T-Rex.’_  Zach realised as he looked back down and spotted the skull of a T-Rex. It was distinctive and he recognised it instantly, in part because Gray had spent an hour pointing out every feature of a T-Rex skull to him once, and also because it was used on the logo for the Park. _‘Holy shit.’_

Several pieces of material, from a banner or something similar, were bunched up and around the pile of bones in front of them. Picking a piece, Zach looked at his brother.

“You still have those matches?” He asked as he began wrapping the material around the bone, gripping the end of the bone where it tapered off.

“Here you go.” Gray handed him the box and watched as his brother struck a dozen matches as once, holding them below the make-shift torch.

The material caught suddenly, and Zach tipped the torch down, making sure the flames travelled up and the entirety of the material was flaming before he righted it.

The warm orange light illuminated the room that was dimly lit from the broken windows high above them. Together they explored the room, coming across a detailed drawing of several dinosaurs on one of the rear walls.

A doorway with a broken door, splintered and hanging from one hinge, was off to the side of the entrance. Zach pushed the door aside, propping it against the wall, and looked at the room beyond.

It was a garage.

There was bright light emanating from the open garage door on the far side, but the light didn’t travel very far, so Zach used the torch to illuminate the workstation by the door.

“Gray?” Zach asked as his brother moved between the two jeeps in the garage, both looking like they’d seen better days.

“1992 Jeep Wrangler Sahara,” Gray replied, pointing at the jeep that was facing the open garage door. It seemed the better of the two.

Zach moved to stand beside his brother, and he frowned.

Gray looked at him questioningly.

“You remember when we fixed up grandpa’s old Malibu right?” Zach asked as reached out and undid the clasps securing the hood. He pushed it up one handed, bringing the torch closer so he could peer at the engine.

“Yeah,” Gray replied, standing on his toes and craning his head to look at the engine as well.

“Think we can fix this scrapheap up too?” Zach looked at his brother, grinning widely when Gray nodded. “Awesome, come on. Let’s go get a battery.”

 

* * *

 

The screen at the front of the Control Room showed a blue map of the Island, a jagged orange line intersecting it. Lowery frowned. “Every time this thing kills, it moves further South,” he said. “It’s headed right for the park.”

Simon looked at him. “No,” he shook his head. “Why would she come here?”

Vivian glanced at the CEO, a worried look on her face as she explained. “She can sense thermal radiation. Our emergency measures just put all the warm bodies in one place,” she stared at the screen.

“Well that was a good idea,” Lowery muttered, staring back down at his console, ignoring the sharp look Simon threw at him.

Before Simon could say anything the sound of the door opening caught his attention. Everyone in the room glanced at the door, several grimacing in distaste as they caught sight of Hoskins walking through them.

The ACU guard by the door raised a hand, trying to stop Hoskins from going any further, but Hoskins waved his ID at the guard, giving him a flippant, “InGen. Hoskins.”

Simon stepped away from the consoles, staring at Hoskins with a hard look. “I know who you are,” he said coolly.

Hoskins grinned, his eyes bright with tolerant amusement. It smacked of the sort of look someone gave a person who they thought were stupid and weak, but amusing in a twisted, cruel way. It was a look that suited Hoskins well. “Then you know why I’m here. I’ve been working for two years on an application for those Raptors. They can hunt and kill that creature.”

Hoskins leaned against the rear console, staring at Simon who frowned, slipping his hands into his trouser pockets. “But your programme was to test their intelligence.”

Hoskins nodded his head, glancing at the floor before he looked back at Simon. “Yeah, yes it was and we did. And in the process, we learned something.” He paused, stepping forward so that he was nearer to the console Vivian was working on. He glanced at her, dismissed her existence and continued with a smirk. “They follow orders. You see the solution to your crisis is standing right in front of you.”

“Let me be as clear as I can.” Simon walked slowly over to Hoskins, closing the distance between them with calm, measured steps. He stopped in front of the other man, staring him directly in the eye and said, voice harder than steel. “No velociraptors are going to be set loose on this island.”

Hoskins scoffed, staring at Simon. “You’re outta your mind! What are you gonna do with all these people?” Hoskins walked over to the console Lowery was at, waving his arm at the large screen depicting the Island. “You got twenty thousand people here, what are you gonna do? They have no place to go.”

Hoskins lowered his voice, moving back towards Simon, intensity blazing in his eyes and, for a moment, Simon felt compelled by it, before he pushed it away and focused. “That thing is a killing machine. And it will not stop.”

Simon stared at him, wondering if Hoskins was seriously trying to convince him to set the raptors loose on the Island, presumably without Grady around to stop him. The man was insane!

But Simon was a consummate professional, a CEO of a fortune 500 company. He could play the game as well as anyone, and he played it now.

“Okay.” Simon agreed, nodding slowly, focusing on Hoskins and pushing out with his mutation. He focused on sending out calming, pleasing emotions to the other man, hoping to curb whatever aeriated instinct the man had. “I intend to personally look into your project to determine its viability, within the moral principles of this company.”

Simon stared at Hoskins who stared back, unblinking as he held Simons gaze. Finally, after a long, tense moment of silence, Hoskins took a slight step back and nodded. “Okay boss. What’s your next move?”

Simon opened his mouth to reply but stopped when the door to the Control Room opened again and a familiar person stepped out.

“Miss Dearing,” Simon said, relieved. He smiled and moved towards her.

Claire looked at Simon in surprise, there was a near tangible wave of relief coming from the man and looking behind him, Claire realised why.

Hoskins was here.

Resisting the urge to scowl in annoyance, Claire smiled at Simon and focused her attention on everything but Hoskins.

“Okay, what’s happening people?” Claire asked as she moved to stand in the middle of the Control Room, studiously ignoring the way Hoskins stared at her. “And what’s going on with communications? I want someone on that right now. There’s no point coordinating if we can’t talk to our people in the field.”

One of the other technicians, Frank, nodded and scurried away, heading for the roof access to try and figure what the fuck was wrong with their comms. Claire watched him go, her gaze sharp.

Lowery cleared his throat and Claire’s gaze snapped to him. He balked a little at having her penetrating gaze focused on him, but he didn’t back down. “The  _Indominus_  is heading towards the Park. She’ll reach the perimeter of the resort in less than two hours if she isn’t distracted or stopped.”

Claire nodded, switching her gaze to the display of the Island, the orange line depicting the  _Indominus’_  route a terrifying reminder of how close to a true disaster they were. She let out a breath, forcing herself to remain calm.

“Okay,” she frowned. “The Hammond Creation Lab was designed with thermal signatures in mind wasn’t it?” She asked, looking at Lowery who stared at her. “The public display labs, the amount of power required to keep them regulated meant insulated walls were important, especially ones that limited the amount of heat entering or exiting the building.”

“We can’t put everyone in the HCL though, it’s not big enough,” Vivian pointed out and Claire sighed.

“No but we can have a portion of our guests housed there for the time being, the rest should be confined to the hotel and kept mostly indoors. The walls may not block much thermal radiation, but they’ll block more than if we have twenty-two thousand people walking around in the open,” Claire explained. She turned to look at Simon. “Mister Masrani?”

Simon recognise the token recognition of his existence for what it was, a simple way of reminding everyone in the room that Claire was the one in control, even if she didn’t have the title of CEO. It was subtly done and certainly limited Hoskins influence in the Control Room, far more than Simon could have done alone.

He knew little of the Park’s day-to-day runnings, near nothing about its design or construction, and such lack of knowledge would play right into Hoskins hands. With Claire present however, Simon realised how important his Park Operations Manager truly was.

Claire had the respect and trust of every employee on the Island, the Control Room instantly deferring to her, even though Simon himself ranked higher in the corporate system. Hoskins could take advantage of Simon’s lack of knowledge, he couldn’t take advantage of Claire’s.

He smiled. “You know this Park Miss Dearing. I trust you know what you’re doing.”

Claire smiled back, a sliver of amused glee in her gaze before she turned back to the rest of the Control Room, mask firmly in place. “Let’s get on with it people.”

“What are we going to do about the  _Indominus_  though?” Lowery asked after a minute, glancing at Claire when she came to stand beside his console. “It’s still going to head towards the Park.”

“We’ll do what Mister Grady suggested we do in the first place,” Claire replied, staring at the screen with a hard gaze. “We mount the biggest weapon in the armoury on a helicopter and try and take her down before she reaches the Park.”

Lowery stared up at Claire, mouth open. He blinked dumbly. “O-oh. That- that works.”

 

* * *

 

Simon watched silently as the second pilot climbed into the helicopter, strapping into it, tail thrashing behind him as he did. Claire stood beside him, watching in quiet apprehension as the helicopter blades began to whirl, kicking up dust and leaves and wood chips.

She was sending those men and women after the  _Indominus_. After that… _thing_ … she had allowed to be made. Claire felt like a monster.

Simon reached out, placing a hand on Claire’s arm, startling her into looking at him, eyes wide. He gave her a small understanding smile, a sense of artificial calm and warmth suffusing her. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she gave Simon a sharp nod.

She could do this.

She had to do this.

As the helicopter disappeared from view, the sound of its engine and blades fading, they both turned back to the access door for the helipad on top of the Control Bunker. Back in Control they both knew Hoskins was chomping at the bit, desperately wanting to take over and run whatever game it was he wanted to play.

Neither of them were willing to allow that to happen.

 

* * *

 

Zach opened the bonnet of the crashed buggy, cursing silently when his thumb got caught in the seam for a moment. He peered down at the contents of the engine, noting that the fanbelt had snapped clean in two, part of the engine looked like it had melted, but his quarry looked to be intact and functional. He grinned.

_‘Thank God.’_

He disconnected the cables attached to it and undid the brackets keeping it in place, Zach noted that it didn’t seem damaged in any way. No cracks or splits in the casing, the connectors looked fine and, as he picked it up, it didn’t leak acid.

Gray stood a few feet away watching his brother liberate the battery, gaze nervous, body twitchy as he jumped at every crack and snap of a twig or branch in the jungle. There were birds and other creatures making noise, signalling that the area was dinosaur free, but Gray didn’t know about that sort of thing, and so everything he heard or thought he saw ramped up his fear and anxiety.

“Do you think it’s out there?” Zach asked he hefted the battery up and away from the buggy. He looked at Gray, a slight furrow in his brow as he took in the way his brother seemed to be shaking slightly. Then he sensed Gray’s emotions and he felt like kicking himself.  _’Idiot. Worse thing to say!’_

“I mean,” Zach started, moving away from the buggy towards his brother, giving him a reassuring smile. “I know for a fact that it is  _definitely_  not out there. We’re totally safe.”

The look of polite disbelief on Gray’s face was echoed by his emotions. Zach’s smile widened. At least he could still make his brother give him the _“you’re completely insane”_  looks without trying.

“Here,” Zach held the battery out in front of him. “Take this.”

Gray reached out slowly, hesitant to actually take the battery for reasons Zach couldn’t name.

“You’re stronger than me,” Zach said, feeling as though he was admitting a secret he never wanted to actually say aloud. Because it was  _true_. His little genius, pain in the ass brother  _was_  stronger than him. And Zach couldn’t hate him for it because at least Gray wouldn’t end up falling apart from feeling someone else’s damned emotions and not realising it.

Gray rolled his eyes, not believing his brother even though the words warmed him and calmed his a little. The battery was large and heavy in his arms as he followed Zach back towards the garage and the Jeep Wrangler they were ‘repairing.’ Really, they were just stealing parts from the other Jeep and now the buggy to jerry-rig it into working.

He helped Zach mount the battery in the brackets of the Jeep Wrangler’s battery port, turning the wrench to tighten the nut with a look of fierce concentration as Zach watched him. When Gray couldn’t tighten the nut anymore he looked at his brother who grinned and smacked him on his shoulder.

“All right!” Gray said, grinning at way Zach jumped into the Jeep, hands gripping the steering wheel. “Turn it over.” Zach turned the key in the ignition, foot on the accelerator and clutch, one hand on the gear stick and- “Woo!”

The roaring life of the engine purred loudly in the garage. Zach gave Gray a toothy grin through the windscreen, jerking his head at his brother who took the hint, scrambling into the passenger seat, door slamming shut behind him. Gray looked at his brother, frowning slightly as he realised.

“I thought you failed your driver’s test?” He asked, eyebrows raising when Zach snorted out a laugh.

“Only the driving part,” Zach replied, eyes alight with exhilaration. “Seatbelt. Mom would kill me if she knew you weren’t wearing it.”

“We’re in the  _jungle_ ,” Gray pointed out, rolling his eyes even as he sat back and reached for the seatbelt. “It’s not like you can total the Jeep on a stop sign.”

“No, just a tree,” Zach shot back, putting the Jeep into gear, managing not to crunch the gears as he did so. Definitely an improvement over his last time driving a car. “Or maybe- HOLY SHIT!”

Gray screamed. Zach yanked the wheel, turning the Jeep sharply, foot slamming on the break as he did so. Skidding to a stop, the Jeep’s engine revved in the middle of the jungle while Zach gripped the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip, panting, eyes wide.

“What was that?” Gray cried, head whipping around as he tried to see what it was. “What did we hit?”

“We hit? We hit! More like what hit  _us_ , holy shit!” Zach muttered, feeling hysterical as he unclipped his seatbelt and opened the door, heart pounding with adrenaline. He looked at Gray. “Stay in the car.”

Gray gave him a jerky nod. “Not a problem,” he said, voice wobbling as he stared at Zach with wide eyes. “Don’t get eaten.”

The corner of Zach’s lips twitched upwards but the words fell flat of outright humour. Steeling himself, Zach climbed out of the Jeep, stepping down onto the jungle floor cautiously. Whatever had hit them could be hurt, or… preparing to attack.

 _‘This was such a bad idea,’_  he thought, sweat breaking out across his brow, neck tingling as he stepped away from the Jeep, head swivelling around to look around the jungle.  _’Fuck I’m going to die.’_

Gray cried out suddenly, the sound piercing in the jungle and Zach spun on his heel, running back to the Jeep. He slammed into the driver’s side door, staring in through the open window at his brother who was… staring at a guy stood by his door, giving him a smirk, eyes glowing green.

“Well,” the guy said, voice deep and smooth with a hint of a mid-western drawl. “Least I can tell Claire I found you, even if you did manage to hit me with a damned car.”

Zach stared. Gray stared.

“Who the  _hell_  are you?” Zach snapped, staring warily at the guy who mentioned their aunt so casually. Gray was still staring at the guy and Zach could feel the mixture of emotions brewing beneath his brother’s skin. Fear. Confusion. Hope.

“Owen,” the guy— _Owen_ —said, giving Zach a nod of acknowledgement. “Your aunt asked me to haul your asses back to the Park since you decided _not_  to come back when the recall was issued on the rides.” Owen raised an eyebrow, amused when Zach blushed. “Yeah. She’s a bit pissed about that by the way.”

“I’ll bet,” Zach muttered, looking away from Owen. Aunt Claire was going to  _skin_  him. And then she’d call his mom and let  _her_  skin him too. Damn.

Owen’s head whipped around, a snarl slipping from his lips and Zach stared at him. Gray looked at his brother for a moment, confusion clear on his face. Owen was a stranger to them, but he didn’t seem to be dangerous to them exactly. And they were out in the middle of the jungle hiding from a giant murder lizard so anyone who could string more than two words together was automatically listed in the not-a-murder-lizard-ergo-friend category.

“Time to go,” Owen said, looking back at Zach, his eyes shining brightly— _strangely_ —as he stared at him. “Company’s a-callin’.”

 _‘And not friendly company apparently,’_  Zach thought, nodding as he opened the car door and slipped back behind the steering wheel. Owen gripped the roll cage on the back of the Jeep and jumped in behind them, the rifle Zach only just realised Owen had with him bouncing on his back. “Hold on,” he said aloud, hitting the accelerator.

 

* * *

 

Claire watched the display with the live-feed from the helicopter, a second display of the Island that showed the progress of the  _Indominus_  towards the Park beside it. She felt like fidgeting but ruthlessly suppressed the urge to worry the hem of her shirt sleeve, folding her arms across her chest and gripping her forearms in a tight grip.

 _‘Please let this work,’_  she thought desperately.  _’Please, please, please let this work.’_

Her nephews were in the jungle. Owen was looking for them. The  _Indominus_  was out there. If this didn’t work, then Zach and Gray— _and_   _Owen_  she reminded herself—would suffer. The entire Island would.

Simon stood beside her, silent and reassuring with his presence. Claire believed Owen’s words when he’d told her that she could keep Hoskins out of the running of the Park, but she also knew that Simon’s presence was really what kept the bloodthirsty, ambitious man from going at her.

Hoskins saw her as a pretty face and it grated on her nerves. And temper.

 _“Control. We’ve located the_ Indominus _.”_

The crackling static burst from the helicopter pilot relaying his position to Control captured her attention and Claire took a breath, refocusing on the situation.

“Where is it?” She asked, glancing at Vivian who tapped away on her screen, answering after a moment.

“Two hundred yards from the Aviary,” Vivian replied, turning her head to look at Claire over her shoulder.

“If they shoot it there will it go down before hitting the Aviary?” Lowery asked, not looking away from his own screen, a strange blue, flickering overlay fliting across his screen for a moment before clearing. “I don’t think that gun is gonna be enough to take her down, do you?”

 _“Control, the_ Indominus _is heading directly for the Aviary. Advise.”_

Claire looked at Simon. He gave her a calm look in return and Claire knew what she had to do.

If the  _Indominus_  got into the Aviary all hell would break loose. If they didn’t do anything the Indominus could do a lot of damage. If they did do something, damage could still be done.

They were damned either way.

“Shoot it,” Claire ordered, staring hard at the screen, now showing a quarter-sized view of the helicopter’s live-feed. The pale white scales of the _Indominus_  showed up starkly in the green vitality of the jungle and Claire felt her stomach tense at the sight.

 

* * *

 

The sound of gunfire shattered the lively noise of the jungle, startling the birds and monkeys in the trees and Owen cursed viciously. Zach wrenched the steering wheel, arching the Jeep suddenly as he jerked at the deafening sound.

“What the hell was that!” He shouted, glancing back at Owen who was gripping his rifle tightly, that green blaze in his eyes again. Something about it screamed to Zach of danger, but he wasn’t sure what.

“Your aunt listened to my advice,” Owen replied, voice rising over the roaring of the Jeep. “Keep heading straight, we’ll come out near one of the Service Roads we can take back to the Park.” He added, turning around in the back of the Jeep, rifle held in his hands, feet planted firmly against the back of the Jeep. If anything came up behind them it’d get a face full of lead.

“Some advice,” Zach muttered, shifting gears and building up speed in the Jeep again as they rampaged through the underbrush. Grey was gripping the dashboard next to him, eyes wide.

Either his brother was too terrified for words, or he was ecstatic with the mad dash through the jungle. Zach honestly wasn’t sure which he preferred it to be.

 

* * *

 

“Shit!”

The sound of the helicopter pilot cursing had Claire tensing, moving forward to stand just behind Vivian, hand reaching out and settling on the blonde woman’s shoulder just as she started muttering under her breath.

“Oh no, no, no, no!” Vivian cursed, tapping away at her screen frantically, as if there was something she could do from Control.

Simon felt the glee pouring from Hoskins as the man stepped away from the edges of the room he’d clung to for the last half hour, a fevered brightness in his eyes as he watched the screen with them.

“Looks like the fox got in the hen house,” Hoskins said, giving Claire a look that screamed smugness and Simon gritted his teeth.

“You may find this amusing Mister Hoskins, but you are the only one,” Simon commented, trying to keep his loathing for the man out of his voice, instead peppering his words with reproach and disappointment. It had several of the InGen men shifting minutely from where they stood to the sides of the room.

Simon wanted them out of Control but he was loath to deny the Control staff some protection. Though… he wasn’t so sure they were really there for protection.

More like anticipatory detainment.

 _‘I’m not strong enough to stop them all if they decide to do anything,’_  Simon thought to himself, wondering if his mutation was even strong enough to stop  _one_  of them.

There were few mutants strong enough for that with empathic abilities. Simon knew that it was partly due to the popularity of neutering of Omega-level mutants—Simon’s father had supported the act even though he himself had classed as an Omega—but also because the vast majority of empathy-based mutations tended to rate no higher than Beta-level. Simon himself classed as an Alpha-level but that was due to his secondary mutation rather than his primary. Though few knew that of course, since he had no desire to share with everyone he met that he was one of less than 10% of the global mutant population whose secondary mutation was stronger than their primary; it often led to awkward assumptions and such.

Simon looked at Vivian, the young woman staring at the chaos of the  _Indominus_  in the Aviary. She seemed to be fighting off panic as she watched with wide eyes as the helicopter pilot flew, attempting to dodge the dimorphodons now fleeing the Aviary through the breach the  _Indominus_  had created. He reached out with his powers, subtly projecting calming emotions towards the young woman, managing to influence Claire and the other technician—Low-something—who looked to be as horrified as Vivian.

They were all distracted when the sound of a blaring alarm broke through the cacophony of noise generated by the  _Indominus_  attacking the dimorphodons in the Aviary, and Simon let out a breath, watching the screen at the other side of the Control Room, as the helicopter was hit, careening out of control and smashing into the top of the Aviary, the feed from the helicopter filtering out in a hiss of static.

“Oh God,” Claire breathed, horror in her voice and Simon found himself relating to the muted shock emanating from her. “The pilots-”

“They’re alive, teleported out,” Lowery said, tapping away on his screen furiously. “They’re heading back to the Park.”

Simon breathed out a relieved breath.  _’Thank the gods,’_  he thought, looking at Vivian when the young woman cleared her throat.

“We have a breach in the Aviary,” Vivian said, circulating the warning on the emergency frequency. “We have dimorphodons heading for the Park.”

“How long do we have before they reach the Park?” Claire asked, voice hard as she pushed aside her panic, focusing on the situation.

“No more than ten minutes,” Vivian replied and Claire grimaced.

“Send out an alert, get the guests inside any building now.” Claire moved across the Control Room, heels clicking loudly in the sudden silence of the room—the screens no-longer showing the inside of the Aviary, the cameras cut out as the  _Indominus_  barrelled through the other side of the Aviary, escaping into the jungle again.

Simon followed his Park Operations Manager, looking at Vivian and Lowery meaningfully. “You both are in charge while Miss Dearing and I are in the Park,” he said, giving them a nod, ignoring the way Hoskins scoffed from the corner he had returned to after the helicopter had crashed. “Keep us informed.”


	14. Main Street

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I never thought I'd have to shoot one of my animals. I wonder if Hammond ever felt like this with the original Park."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, another chapter and it's been less than _six damned months!!_ Will miracles never cease lol!
> 
> I've got notes for the next chapter and I'm going to be working on it tonight, but I gotta be up in a few hours, it's 4:26AM and I am basically done. So have this 6k (almost 7k) chapter and enjoy. Also, the bullshit genetics is my bullshit and I don't care if it's inaccurate because I am a psychology graduate not a biologist lol!

Owen sat against the back of the cabin of the Jeep, rifle held firmly in his hands, watching the jungle recede behind them as the oldest kid—he figured that one was Zach—drove along the dirt track running between the long grass.

There was nothing out there, nothing that could pose a danger to any of them, but Owen was tense regardless. There was something not quite right around them, something building up into a frenzy, and Owen wanted the kids out of the way when it eventually boiled over.

He’d like to say that he wanted  _himself_  out of the way too, but he was a feral mutant with a pack of velociraptors connected to him. Staying out of the way was  _not_  going to happen.

Still, it would have been nice.

The younger kid—Gray—twisted in his seat, sticking his head out the back of the cabin beside Owen. The kid was staring up at the sky and Owen glanced at him, frowning.

“Okay that’s it; we’re safe now!” Zach shouted at them, smiling as he changed gears again. Fortunately, the Jeep didn’t lurch forward as the kid managed not to crunch the gearbox like he’d done the first dozen times.

One hell of a way to learn how to drive stick: escaping the hybrid dinosaur from hell.

A sharp inhalation of breath from Gray had Owen’s attention snap to the kid, who was staring up at the sky above the treeline behind them. Owen’s head turned, eyes taking in the lush greenery of the receding jungle even as he tilted his head upwards to stare at the sky.

Well shit.

“Go! Go, go!” Gray shouted—screamed—at his brother who was staring at the rear-view mirror with wide eyes.

“Zach, go!” Owen roared, snapping the kid out of the horrified zone he’d been in for a long minute. “We’ve got five minutes before those flyers catch up with us! Make it count!”

The Jeep bounced along the dirt track, climbing the incline of the hill before them steadily; engine roaring loudly as Zach gave it everything to move faster.

Owen returned his attention to the flyers quickly approaching them just as they crested the hill—Zach and Gray spotting a large concrete wall with a blue reinforced-security door a few hundred yards away.

Up above the gate were two park security guards, armed with non-lethals. Owen could feel them, and hear them over the sound of the Jeep engine.

“Well that’s a first.”

 _‘For both of us,’_  Owen thought dryly as he raised his rifle, ready in case any of the flyers swooped the Jeep. His rifle wasn’t a non-lethal unfortunately so he’d end up killing them, but hey, survival was his primary drive as a feral and he liked being alive.

Gray had disappeared back inside the cabin as they’d crested the hill. He was shouting out the window, as was Zach.

“Open the gate! Let us in!”

There was real fear in Gray’s voice as he screamed, mirrored by Zach’s but neither moved the guards above the gate.

Owen turned and stared up at the gate, realising the guards were staring at the flyers fast approaching.

“OPEN THE FUCKING GATE!” Owen roared, eyes blazing green as he glared at the guards who literally jumped just as the Jeep skidded to a halt ten-feet from the gate. “NOW! GRADY, OWEN. RAPTOR TRAINER. AUTHORISATION SIX-FOUR-DELTA-TANGO!”

The guards scrambled into action, one of them opening the gate even as one of the flyers swooped down, heading for the second guard. Owen raised his rifle, firing off a shot the hit the pteranodon in the side. It shrieked, bailing off to the left just as the guard fired at it, hitting its wing.

The gate was half open, more than enough for the Jeep to squeeze through—Owen was about to say something when Zach, obviously recognising the same thing as Owen, gunned the engine. A wing-mirror was lost to the gate but they were through, the large gate already starting to slide closed behind them as the guards dived down inside the concrete wall that made up the Park’s perimeter.

“Keeping going!” Owen ordered Zach, kneeling down in the back of the Jeep as the high walls of the non-public areas of the Park deterred the flyers from attacking them. He still kept his rifle pointed at the sky. “Head due East, there’s an access hatch that can goes straight to Control via the lower levels.”

“How far away is it?” Zach shouted, looking back at Owen even as he swerved to avoid a palette with what looked like bags of feed on it.

“You’ll know it when you see it kid,” Owen replied, tilting his head to the side as his awareness of his girls flared up. “Trust me.”

 

* * *

 

Zara hurried down the stairs outside the Creation Labs, phone in hand as she waited for Claire to pick up.

The moment the call connected, Zara was talking.

“We spotted the boys and Grady on surveillance. They’re inside the Park by the West gate.” Zara dodge out of the way of a group of children and their parents hurrying towards the Lab.

In the background there was a standard, Park-wide announcement playing on repeat.

_“Due to a containment anomaly, all guest must take shelter immediately.”_

“Okay, stay where you are. Simon and I are heading into the Park now!” Claire’s voice was steady and reassuring, calmer than Zara expected but she found it settled her heart.

The fact that her boss was calm in the middle of an actual disaster amazed Zara. Few people knew Claire well enough to realise that the woman wasn’t as calm as she often appeared—actually feeling the calmness that Claire’s voice carried was the most reassuring thing for Zara.

“The Labs are full. Everyone else is inside the buildings along Main Street and down by the Mosasaur tank. But there’s lots of windows.” Zara headed along the almost empty Main Street of the Park, heading towards one of the obscured access hatches that allowed Park employees access to the lower levels of the Park.

She rarely used the lower levels, preferring the open air above ground, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

“InGen security and ACU are gearing up now. The Aviary was breached and the animals are loose. They’ve got non-lethals but—” the sharp intake of breath down the phone made Zara tense “—Zara. I don’t think they’ll be enough.”

Zara chewed her lips thoughtfully, standing a few feet from the access hatch. She stared out across the lagoon, eyes fixed on the sky.

“I can put a barrier up around Main Street,” Zara said softly. “It might not hold for long, but if it gives ACU time to take down the flyers–”

Claire cut her off. “I won’t ask you to do that Zara.”

Zara bit back a smile. Even in the middle of a crisis she could trust that Claire wouldn’t pressure her to use her ability.

Few knew it, but Zara was an omega-level mutant. Her primary mutation had been molecular manipulation, her secondary the ability to generate an electrostatic barrier. The gene therapy had reduced the strength of a primary mutation and affected her physically whenever she created a barrier using her secondary mutation.

Desperate times called for desperate measures however, no matter how much Zara didn’t want to do this. She couldn’t allow people to die. Not if she could do something about it.

“You’re not asking me Claire,” Zara said gently, turning away from the hatch, moving to stand in the middle of Main Street. Her free hand at her side was clenched tightly in a fist, trembling slightly. “I’m volunteering.”

There was a long pause on the phone, Claire fighting with herself over what Zara knew was necessary. “Thank you.”

Zara huffed out a soft laugh, smiling gently. “You’re the best person I’ve ever worked for Claire,” Zara said, “I’ll be damned if I let some scaly rats ruin this gig for me.”

The laugh Claire let out as she hung up kept a smile on Zara’s face even as she heard the first screech from one of the flyers from the Aviary.

Watching dozens of flying dinosaurs approaching Main Street, Zara shifted her weight, standing more firmly. Her hands out in front of her, she breathed out slowly, fingers spreading out, tiny shocks of electricity sparking on her fingers. Gritting her teeth, Zara  _pushed_.

A tangible wave of electricity spread out from her, blanketing the front of the buildings along Main Street, creeping along their walls and upwards in a sparking, crackling dome.

The first flyer to come into contact with it screeched loudly, veering off to the side. The backlash through the barrier had Zara gasping, already feeling her skull start to pound. Another slammed into it, shrieking as it fell to the ground, and Zara tasted copper in her mouth.

Two hits and already she was trembling. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t—

No.  _No_. She could do this. She  _would_  do this. For however long it took ACU to arrive and shoot the flyers.

She wasn’t going to give up now.

Not until she couldn’t stand damn it!

 

* * *

 

Claire ran down the corridor heading towards the primary access hatch out of the sub-level from the Control Room. Simon was following behind her, a dozen ACU members with them. Simon had a non-lethal stunner in his hands, carrying it like it was a familiar friend.

Claire was unarmed but she didn’t let that stop her from being the first out of the hatch, bursting out into the bright Costa Rican sun to the sound of screeching overhead.

“Go!” Claire ordered, not waiting to watch ACU start to move. “Take down the flyers, keep the guests safe!”

Simon trailed behind her, obviously deciding Claire needed someone to protect her as she heedlessly ran through the Park heading straight for Main Street.

‘Please let them be there,’ she thought desperately as she dodged an umbrella falling to the ground outside one of the store fronts. A loud screech had her stumbling, going down, taking skin off her hands and knees. She scrambled back as a pteranodon careened towards her.

Simon raised the rifle, shouting something unintelligible as he fired, hitting the flyer with a half-dozen shots that took it down.

Claire scrambled back further as the pteranodon slide along the smooth concrete, coming to a stop less than a foot away from where she was pressed against a wall. She stared at the flyer, eyes wide as she took in the long beak close enough for her to touch.

“Miss Dearing? Claire?”

Simon’s voice had Claire snapping her awareness back to the present, the pteranodon no longer a priority. He was looking at her, rifle held in his hands, muzzle angled down slightly but not so much he wouldn’t be able to raise it quickly enough to shoot at anything that came at them.

“Close call,” Claire said, breathing out as she climbed to her feet, brushing down her skirt on reflex.

“I never thought I’d have to shoot one of my animals,” Simon said, voice quiet but there was a dry vein of amusement to his words that had Claire looking at him. “I wonder if Hammond ever felt like this with the original Park.”

Claire didn’t know how to respond to that. What could she say? There wasn’t anything she could tell Simon that could make the reality of the situation any less jarring. Simon may own the animals, may have visited them annually over the years, but Claire had been the one to deal with the trainers when the animals needed more than the Park provided. She might not know how to measure an animal’s happiness, she might rely too heavily on order and structure, but she knew this island and its inhabitants better than anyone else on the island.

Except Grady.

The Raptor Trainer had made it his mission almost to learn everything he possibly could about everyone the Park employed, and the animals the Park displayed. The only animals Grady didn’t have access to were those that Corporate kept isolated, knowledge of their existence so confidential that only Claire and a handful of others knew about them.

The Indominus had fallen under that type of secrecy, and the end result had been a homicidal creature that was terrorising the Park and causing millions of dollars of damage.

“Sometimes we do things we never imagined we’d ever do,” Claire said eventually, glancing at Simon as she did. They were moving along the street now, Simon pointing the rifle at the sky as they moved.

Several ACU members were nearby, firing at a cluster of flyers that were making swoop attacks at them. The turning for Main Street was covered with what looked like a bubble made of electricity that crackled and struck out whenever a flyer got too close.

Claire stared at it, amazed at the sheer size as they came to a stop several feet from it.

“Is that–” Simon began but Claire cut him off with a curt: “Yes.”

Standing about thirty feet away, in the middle of Main Street, was Claire’s assistant. Her eyes were shut, hands out in front of her, visibly shaking even with the distance between them. Zara looked as though she was moments away from collapsing, a trail of blood running from her nose down her chin and leaving a long red stain on her white blouse.

“Zara!” Claire screamed, worry and desperation mixing together in her voice as she stared at her assistant. “Zara that’s enough! ACU is here Zara!”

“Can she hear you?” Simon asked, watching the way Claire’s assistant didn’t react to Claire’s shouts. “Or is she distracted by generating this—” he waved his hand at the barrier “—field?”

Claire looked at him. “I don’t know,” she confessed, eyes dark with worry. “She hasn’t created something like this before. Her mutation was dampened by the gene therapy.”

Simon pursed his lips, frowning at the barrier again.

“I think the only thing we can do is wait Claire,” he said softly, glancing at his Park Operations Manager. “We can’t get through to her.”

The look Claire gave him had him reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder, pulling the woman against his side. The majority of flyers had been taken down by ACU and InGen security—those that remained were wearier, moving away from the centre of the Park.

“She’s protecting the guests,” Claire murmured, looking almost lost as she stared at the barrier preventing her from approaching her assistant. “My nephews. I– I need to find them.”

Simon watched, a little in awe at the way Claire almost visibly transformed in front of him—worry and fear that rendered her immobile dissipating in an almost tangible wave of determination.

This was the woman that inspired everyone on this Island.

Simon had never been so happy with her appointment before in his  _life_.

“Your assistant, Zara, she mentioned something about the West gate yes?” Simon asked, looking across the lagoon, sharp eyes taking in the western walkway along the outskirt of the Mosasaur enclosure. “Then we should head in that direction no?”

Claire blinked, a spark of something burning in her blue eyes for a moment before it disappeared. She nodded, determined and motivated in way that directed her focus entirely on what needed to be done. “Right.”

 

* * *

 

Owen placed a guiding hand on Gray’s shoulder, directing the boy with a gentle strength even as he stretched his senses, alert and watchful between the high walls of the employee access routes between the paddocks.

He saw a dozen InGen security members, carrying non-lethals, heading toward the Western approach for the Park. He grimaced. That’s where they needed to go damn.

The only route to the Control Room was across the centre of the Park, along the Mosasaur lagoon. The secondary routes were all but impossible to access now—security and ACU pouring out of the hatches from the sublevels deciding Owen’s route for him.

Damn.

“Come on,” he muttered, sidestepping an ACU member who nodded at him as he hurried past. “Control is this way.”

“Is that where Aunt Claire is?” Gray asked, hurrying along with Zach close behind.

“Your Aunt runs the Park kid,” Owen said, looking down at Gray with a smile. “If she ain’t there then she’ll be running around fixing everything.”

“You her boyfriend or something?” Zach asked, smirking at the look Owen threw at him.

“I just work with her kid,” Owen sighed, shaking his head in dry amusement.  “I got enough ladies after my hide.”

Zach snorted.

“What do you mean?” Gray asked, eyes wide in curiosity and Owen swallowed. “Why are girls after you?”

Owen smiled, shrugging a shoulder casually, hoping he wasn’t blushing with the way Zach was  _smirking_  at him as his little brother stared up at Owen.

“My raptors need my attention a lot is all kid,” Owen said, fighting back a scowl when Zach rolled his eyes. The general feel coming from the kid told Owen that Zach didn’t buy what he was saying for a minute. Shame for the kid that it was true. “Don’t have the time to date.”

Owen doubted his girls would ever let him date and, really, he was… okay with that.

Friends were more than enough effort for him to handle with four velociraptors if he was honest. And that was without the murder hybrid that wanted to tear him to shreds.

“Oh.” Gray looked away from Owen—unaware of the way Owen breathed out silently in relief—as a loud shriek from behind them drew their attention.

They were a few feet from the thirty-foot-high service doors that kept the public from traipsing around behind the scenes. The doors were partially open, heavy steel catch pulled back so ACU and InGen security could enter the Park proper.

Owen’s head turned, snapping around sharply, eyes widening as he watched one of the largest flyers he’d ever seen come barrelling towards them—the red on its bill marking it as an alpha male.

Well shitting shit.

“Run!” Owen shouted, pulling Gray along as he darted through the service doors, Zach just behind them. “Get to cover!”

Zach wasted no time in grabbing his brother; both of them running flat out towards the nearest building—thirty feet away.

Owen knew they weren’t going to make it.  _’God damn it,’_  he thought, spinning on his heel, claws scraping against the metal of his rifle even as he raised it.  _‘Hey, you ugly bastard, down fucking here!’_

The flyer—a pteranodon with one hell of a wingspan—shrieked, almost as though it heard Owen’s thoughts. Maybe it did. He didn’t really care though since its attention was diverted from the kids still running; sharp orange eyes affixed to Owen’s still form in the middle of the street.

Gritting his teeth, Owen waited for it to get closer, feeling the alien sensation of its thoughts as the flyer dove down towards him. Its wings snapped close to its body as it dived down, moving like a bullet towards him. The rifle creaked in his grip, a snarl fighting to escape his closed lips. His eyes burned and he knew they were flaring up again; bright neon green visible from a distance.

It didn’t deter the flyer though. With another shriek its wings snapped out, full wingspan unfurling as the air resistance pushed it back—its talon-clawed feet rapidly approaching Owen, flexing in preparation of snapping him up.

Owen snarled and fired.

The shot clipped the pteranodon on the side, splitting the fine webbing of its right wing at the bottom enough to elicit a pained screech.

Owen threw himself to the side as the flyer crashed to the ground, rolling several times—screeching and flailing as it did—until it came to a stop in a tangled heap. Rifle pointed at it, Owen carefully moved around it, heading towards Zach and Gray who were peering out through a glass door of a souvenir store.

“Wow!” Gray shouted, staring at Owen with wide eyes full of childish awe and hero worship. “That was  _awesome!_ ”

“That was pretty badass,” Zach agreed as Owen moved over to them. Zach had an arm around his brother’s shoulders, keeping him close to his side as he stared at the downed flyer.

Owen shot them a grin. “I know,” he said, crinkles around his eyes as his smile grew at the way Zach rolled his eyes. “Come on, your Aunt isn’t too far.”

“How do you know?” Zach asked, even as they began to move again. Gray stumbled slightly and Zach automatically steadied his brother, giving him a quick reassuring smile as he did so.

“Got a good sniffer,” Owen replied, tapping his nose. “And your Aunt wears a horrid perfume that always makes me wanna sneeze. Only person I know who wears that.”

“You know her  _perfume?_ ” Zach asked dryly, eyebrows raised. “Seriously? Are you  _sure_  you’re not her boyfriend?”

Owen sighed.

“Kid, if you think knowing a woman’s perfume brand means you you’ve got to be interested in them, then I’m sorry to break it to ya; it doesn’t,” Owen said, glancing at Zach who frowned at him. “Knowing stuff about your friends, no matter what their gender is, is what friends do kid. Your Aunt is my friend—sort of—so I know her perfume brand. Same as I know the cologne my friend Barry likes to get for Christmas every damned year.”

Zach opened his mouth but whatever he was going to say in response was derailed by a scream.

“ZACH! GRAY!”

“AUNT CLAIRE!” Gray wrenched himself out of his brother’s grasp, pelting across the open street towards a white-dressed figure with flaming red hair that was running towards them. “AUNT CLAIRE!”

“CLAIRE!” Zach shouted, breaking out into a run, catching up with his brother quickly. Together they barrelled into Claire who clung to them desperately.

“Oh my God,  _oh God_ , you’re okay!” Claire sobbed, burying her head against Zach’s shoulder. “Oh, thank God!”

Owen watched the three family members cling to each other, his senses alert even as he walked over to them—stopping a few feet away with the muzzle of his rifle aimed away from them. He looked at Masrani approaching from behind Claire, a non-lethal rifle held in the CEO’s hands with a raised eyebrow.

The slight shrug and sheepish sort of smile Masrani gave him had Owen huffing out a quiet breath in amusement.

 _‘Badass CEO,’_  he thought, even as his attention was captured by a sudden silence that fell around them—an absence of a sound he’d been hearing since they’d reached the Park not ten minutes ago.

Masrani turned, looking in the direction of Main Street.

“The hell was that?” Owen asked, moving to stand next to the CEO who glanced at him.

Claire straightened, still holding her nephews close as her head whipped around to stare in the same direction as Owen and Masrani. “Zara,” she breathed.

Letting go of her nephews, Claire looked at Owen and Masrani. “She made a shield to protect the guests,” she told Owen, her eyes bright with renewed worry. “I– I think she’s passed out from the effort it took her.”

Owen nodded grimly, slinging his rifle over his shoulder as he began to move. “Get the kids to Control,” he told Claire, “I’ll get your assistant Claire.”

“Thank you,” Claire near whispered, the words audible for Owen’s sharp hearing, and he gave her a nod. She looked at Zach and Gray. “Come on,” she said, reaching out and draping an arm around Gray’s shoulders. “I promised to show you the Control Room after all.”

Owen sniffed the air, boot-clad feet quickly covering the ground as he moved towards Main Street. His sharp eyes could make out what looked like repeated lightning strikes along the edges of some of the buildings, and large cracks in the concrete ground. There was a sharp scent of ozone in the air, something Owen recognised as the scent of large electrical discharges.

He’d met a soldier with the ability to generate static lightning bolts that he could use like a projectile weapon. Owen’s accelerated healing had protected him from any lasting damage from the guy’s hits, but he had an interesting scar on his back just below his left shoulder blade that his healing hadn’t fixed. It looked a Lichtenberg figure but the colouring was all wrong—most would darken or stand out pale on skin, but Owen’s had taken a partially electric blue tinge to it not long after it had appeared.

It itched as he approached the only person he could see out in the open along Main Street.

Kneeling down next to the collapsed form of Claire’s assistant, Owen’s sharp hearing picked up the sound of a heartbeat—a little fast for his liking but strong and steady. Breathing a sigh of relief, Owen carefully lifted Zara in his arms, wincing at a static discharge that arched from her and connected with his arms.

Fuck but he hated getting electrocuted!

Gritting his teeth, Owen began making his way in the direction of the access hatch to the East of the Park, already preparing to hand Zara over to the first member of medical he came across. The woman needed someone to look after her after she’d exhausted herself protecting several thousand guests damnit!

 

* * *

 

Owen entered Control twenty minutes after Claire, Simon and her nephews arrived. Zach and Gray were safely ensconced in one of the staff rooms—not the one Owen had partially decimated only hours ago—and were fine. Claire was talking with Vivian and Lowery while Simon watched Hoskins with a sharp gaze.

Hoskins, immediately noticing Owen as the feral moved across the floor towards Simon, let out a loud bark of laughter. “Grady! It didn’t eat you? Surprised you didn’t try and adopt the damned thing! Think you could teach it scent drills?”

The mocking amusement clear for everyone to hear in Hoskins voice had Owen’s proverbial hackles raising. A deep rumbling growl began in his chest, growing louder as he stared at Hoskins who grinned at him, eyes fervour bright.

“I don’t believe Mister Grady has any desire to interact with the Indominus in such a manner Mister Hoskins,” a smooth, soft voice broke through the rapidly building tension.

Owen’s eyes—glistening with neon green flecks—snapped to the speaker who stood off to the side of the Control Room, near to one of the other corridors that connected to the room. Henry Wu was calmly dressed in a black sweater and jeans with a starch-white lab coat thrown on top.

“Doctor Wu,” Simon greeted the geneticist who crossed the room to stand beside the CEO. “I am surprised you are out of the lab.”

There was an undercurrent to Masrani’s words, something in his voice that Owen felt more than heard. It had his muscles tensing in preparation. Something was going to happen; something big.

“My presence there is no longer required,” Wu replied, nodding respectfully at Masrani. “I thought it best to share what I knew about the Indominus; to avoid any—” he paused “—nasty surprises.”

Hoskins shifted, his eyes locked onto Wu and Owen’s own narrowed. He consciously reached out with his telepathy—forever thankful that Nancy had shown him how to do this years ago, even if he was a little bit rusty—and gently probed Hoskins thoughts. What he found had him growling audibly, the members of ACU and InGen security in the room shifting.

Wu glanced at Owen, the geneticist’s gaze steady and calm even though there was a spark of anger there.

 _‘Fucking InGen trying to play God!’_  Owen thought furiously, consciously forcing himself to calm down.  _’Fucking Hoskins, obsessed with war!’_

“The Indominus was created as a result of a memo sent to the lab eighteen months ago,” Wu stated, looking around the Control Room at Claire, Owen, Simon and Hoskins. His gaze lingered on Hoskins for a moment before it moved away, coming to rest on Lowery who was watching as avidly as the rest of the Control Room. “We were told to create something scary; lots of teeth and big. Something that would be terrifying.”

Lowery shifted in his seat, an almost nervous air of excitement around him that had Owen’s instincts flaring momentarily. The techie was sitting on something, and he really wanted to share with the class.

“We created the Indominus using a T-Rex base, adding in a variety of predator DNA from a number of different dinosaurs. The most prominent was Spinosaurus and Velociraptor.”

“Son of a bitch!” Owen snarled, stepping forward, eyes burning. “You made a fucking hybrid and you put  _raptor_  in it? Are you out of your mind!”

Wu’s face turned to marble, eyes hardening as he stared at Owen. “No Mister Grady,” the geneticist replied, voice still calm and surprisingly mild, “I’m a scientist. I’m expected to innovate constantly just to provide this Park with its  _attractions_.”

“But raptor? Of all the predators you could have added to the Indominus, you  _had_  to choose the smartest fucking predatory dinosaur? Why not a Suchomimus or even a Baryonyx? Both intelligent enough but not on the same level as  _velociraptors_ —Jesus Christ!” Owen swept a hand through his hair, feeling claws rake along his scalp and he felt like growling. Forcing himself to calm down, he stared at Wu who returned his stare calmly. “What else did you put in her?”

Wu blinked.

Owen’s voice was level all of a sudden, calm and softer than it had ever been. His predatory instincts were rallying, mixing in with the instincts his girls still fed him despite the distance to their paddock. He had a laser focus now; Wu would answer him. “What else?”

“What does that even matter Grady?” Hoskins blustered, voice raised and echoing in the Control Room. The head of security looked around them. “You’ve got a predator out there that’s heading right for the Park; what are you going to do about that? Stand around talking about  _what it’s made of?_  While people are dying?”

Owen’s cheek twitched, the only sign that he was so very close to snapping and tearing Hoskins apart. He was literally at his most dangerous now; a silent predator rather than a loud one, snarling and roaring for all to hear.

“The Indominus won’t go down easily Mister Hoskins,” Wu said, staring at Hoskins. “She was designed to be a predator, made of some of the deadliest carnivorous dinosaurs we have DNA for. There is almost no other predator that even approaches how deadly she is. Especially with—” Wu broke off, his gaze snapping to Owen who tilted his head.

Owen stared at him, telepathically pushing against Wu’s mind and picking up on his thoughts. He hissed out a breath.

“Mutant DNA,” he whispered, eyes widening in horror as he stared at the geneticist. “You put mutant DNA into the mix.  _Fuck_.”

“It was approved,” Wu said quickly, looking at Lowery who turned to his screen, the normal screen flickering for a moment before being replaced. Simultaneously the main display at the end of the room blinked out, replaced a moment later with the same feed Lowery’s computer showed. “I thought it came from Masrani Global but—”

“But someone hacked into the system and made it look like it came from us,” Lowery finished, swivelling in his chair to stare at Hoskins. “It took me some time to figure it out—they hid it all really well—but the digital world is my world and there isn’t anything that happens in this system that I won’t notice eventually.”

Hoskins scoffed. “Oh so you think InGen did this?” He waved a hand, gesturing at the screen at the end of the room—a series of memos with timestamps and electronic signatures tracing them back to InGen available for the whole room to see—with a disgusted look on his face. “You want to just blame us for  _your_  mistakes here, that’s what this is!”

“ _Dude_ ,” Lowery glared at Hoskins, the display flickering, changing as he manipulated the data with his mutation. “I  _literally_  have recordings of you setting us up to take the blame for the Indominus.”

Owen stared at the screen as a video began playing, timestamped for eighteen months ago. He watched as the Hoskins on the screen talked with several men, his voice playing through the speakers mounted along the walls of the Control Room.

Head turning slowly, Owen stared at Hoskins, eyes narrowing, claws extending further than they ever had before. There was a deep-seated bloodlust singing in his ears, pounding in time with his heartbeat. “You bastard.”

Launching himself at Hoskins, Owen was a silent blur, not even growling as he slammed into the man. They ploughed into the wall behind Hoskins, Owen’s claws coming up to dig into tender, fragile flesh.

Hoskins whimpered.

“Owen!”

The sound of weapons readying, terrified gasps and Claire’s voice barely registered in Owen’s mind. None of them were a threat to him. Right now, all that mattered was Hoskins.

“You fucking  _bastard!”_  he hissed, face close to Hoskins, eyes brighter than ever. “You are so fucking obsessed with war, with making weapons, that you went after my girls and when you couldn’t get  _them_  you decided to go and play God with  _mutant DNA?”_

Hoskins hissed out a pained breath.

“Mister Grady. Mister Grady, please let him go.” Masrani’s voice was steady, full of a calmness that Owen knew was only skin-deep. The CEO was as afraid as everyone else in the room. “Mister Hoskins will be arrested, and will be tried by a court of law. You cannot kill him Mister Grady.”

 _‘Fucking wanna bet?’_  Owen thought viciously, snarling at Hoskins, claws digging into Hoskins skin. Tiny rivulets of blood trickled from the puncture wounds.

“You’re the monster on this Island Hoskins,” Owen whispered, voice dark and full of venom. His claws retracted suddenly, eliciting a deep whimper of pain from Hoskins, as he forced himself to step back. “The Indominus is crazy because it was made and raised in a box. That’s on you.”

With one final look at the Head of InGen Security, Owen turned on his heel and stalked out of the Control Room. He didn’t notice Wu following him until he’d reached an empty office.

 

* * *

 

“The Indominus is receptive.”

Owen raised his head, looking at Wu from where he’d collapsed onto a chair in the office. His eyes were still luminescent green but his claws had retracted full. He could feel his canines—he hadn’t even noticed they’d grown, damn.

“It has accelerated healing, the cognitive functions of a velociraptor and the predatory instincts of a T-Rex,” Wu explained softly, leaning against the wall of the office by the door he’d closed behind him. There was only the two of them in the room, and what Wu was telling him was obviously meant for his ears alone.

“I don’t understand.” Owen shook his head. “What do you mean ‘receptive’? Receptive to  _what?”_

Wu stared at Owen for a moment. “To you.”

Owen blinked.

“What the hell?” He asked, staring up at Wu who grimaced. “How would she be receptive to me?”

“You are aware the Park has samples of every employee’s DNA on record yes?” Wu asked, the question rhetorical but Owen nodded anyway. “When I received the memo from what I thought was Masrani Global, ordering for mutant DNA inclusion, I searched through the Park records for a suitable DNA match. Most of those that could have been viable—that would benefit a predator in some way and still be strictly limited to physical mutations—were either too low-level to be reliable replicated or dramatically altered by the gene therapy.”

Owen didn’t look away from Wu’s heavy, knowing gaze, even as he felt like avoiding what he knew Wu was about to say.

“Except for you.” Wu stared at Owen. “Your DNA is indicative of a high-level mutant but without any damage from the gene therapy. It was perfect for what I needed for the Indominus,” Wu paused, tilting his head to the side in a poor mimicry of Owen’s girls when they were contemplating a puzzle. “Your file indicates you’re a feral Mister Grady, but there’s something more to you that I didn’t noticed in your DNA until it was too late.”

Owen breathed softly, staring unblinkingly at Wu.

Undeterred, Wu continued to speak. “With the velociraptors, there was no need to include your DNA to the extent in the Indominus–”

Owen sat up, head raised, eyes wide as he cut Wu off.

“You used my DNA for my girls!” He exclaimed, mind whirling with the potential implications of Wu’s words.

Wu shook his head. “Not me,” he said. “My colleague, the late Doctor Vargen. He was interested in adding mutant DNA into the pre-existing DNA sequences we had for the animals. It wasn’t legal at the time—the UN still doesn’t agree with that level of gene manipulation—but he didn’t put anything down on paper and the alterations to your pack’s DNA is so minor that it’s almost impossible to notice unless you know about it beforehand.”

Owen stared at Wu. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t–

It wasn’t possible!

Except… Blue had always been receptive to him; actively reaching out to from the moment she’d hatched. The others were no different. Was it because they shared a few bits of Owen’s DNA or was it a natural aspect of velociraptors?

Did it even matter? They were his girls. It didn’t change anything.

Except it really did.

“Vargen wanted to know if the introduction of mutant DNA would affect the ferocity of the raptors towards humans,” Wu explained quietly, staring down at the ground, arms crossed over his chest. “I didn’t think it would do anything except…”

“Except you watched as my pack didn’t eat me, or challenge me for dominance of the pack,” Owen finished, equally quiet in the small room.

“When I received that memo, I realised that refusing would likely do nothing in the long run—they’d just approach someone else in the lab and I—” Wu paused, glancing up at Owen with a dark look that Owen recognised as self-recrimination, “—I was too arrogant to let someone else do it and take the credit if it worked. So, I copied what Vargen had done with your pack, increasing the amount of your DNA I used to balance the cocktail of dinosaur DNA. I don’t know if it worked but I– I wanted some sort of potential failsafe; in case the Indominus was too aggressive, too intelligent.”

Owen stared at Wu.

“I didn’t know she’d end up like the raptors from the original Park,” Wu whispered, voice haunted.

Wu had been one of the geneticists working on the Island twenty-two years ago, when John Hammond had run InGen and created Jurassic Park. Out of everyone at Jurassic World, Wu had a singular experience of knowing just how dangerous incorrectly socialised velociraptors could be.

How psychotic.

“I’m aware of her,” Owen said softly, ignoring the way Wu’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “About six months ago I started picking up on something; wasn’t quite sure what it was, just knew it was big, angry and not so friendly. I thought maybe I was stressed out, or picking up something from Sorna.” He smiled bitterly.

“Heck, even thought it could have been the Rex at one point. I’m not a natural telepath Wu,” Owen explained. “My secondary mutation—or maybe my primary, I don’t really know to be honest—seems to be the ability to copy other mutations. But it depends on exposure. I had a friend, telepath. She uh– she’d been an omega-level that got the therapy. I picked up her power but it’s usually hit-and-miss. Last six months it’s been swings and roundabouts between absolute awareness and nada; bumpkiss.”

“Your DNA doesn’t indicate a secondary mutation,” Wu murmured, eyes wide as he stared at Owen. “If I’d known you had a secondary that– that gave you the power to copy  _other_   _mutations_  I’d have never used your DNA. There’s too much unpredictability, too much room for something unexpected to happen.”

“You shouldn’t have used human DNA  _to begin with!”_  Owen snapped, eyes flashing with the sudden flare of his temper before the glow subsided. “She’s aware of me Wu! She  _knows_  I’m a threat to her and damnit but if you hadn’t put my DNA in her I don’t know if I’d have survived the first time I ever fucking saw her!”

The office fell silent as they stared at each other.

Wu looked away.

“You’re right,” he said, voice loud in the silence of the room. “I wanted to play God, no matter what my reasons.”

“And now I have a hybrid dinosaur with my DNA that wants me extra dead,” Owen said dryly, shoulders slumping in exhaustion. Fucking hell.

Wu looked at him, brown eyes full of remorse that Owen knew was genuine. “For what it’s worth; I’m sorry.”

Owen sighed. “I know you are; doesn’t make me feel better though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this (heck even if you _didn't_ ) please comment and leave a like. I'm literally going insane trying to finish this fic at long last. There's likely going to be two or three more chapters (maybe an epilogue). 
> 
> As I'm sure you've noticed, this fic is a bona fide AU now so if you dislike it, I'm very sorry but tough.


	15. Deep Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We need more teeth."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is a day or so later than I'd originally planned, but it's here now! The penultimate chapter! 
> 
> The Indominus finally has what's been coming to her for a while now! 
> 
> Next chapter will be up in a few days. Probably gonna be the last one too.

Owen re-entered the control room, radiating a calm resolve that was at odds with how he'd stormed out of the room only minutes ago. He was still angry—enraged actually—but being angry wouldn't solve anything, and Owen was a big fan of  _fixing the damned problem._ He couldn't undo what Wu had done with his DNA; he couldn't undo what Hoskins had caused with his obsession with making war—but he  _could_ deal with the problem  _now._

He was an omega-level, feral mutant—the Indominus was  _not_ going to scare him any longer.

She might have his DNA as part of her makeup, might be made of something that made Owen unique and individual from the other seven billion fucking people on the planet, but she was still an animal. Just an animal. No more special or unique than any other living thing—the same four base proteins making her as they made up everything. Things changed, time aged the land, and all those things mankind had made. Nothing remained the same, nothing remained forever. Nothing  _lived_ forever—not even a mutant.

Everything died.

And that meant the Indominus could die too.

Her size worked in her favour for the most part—terrifying and advantageous to her when hunting prey—but the bigger something was, the harder it was for that something to fight against inertia. Owen knew from harsh experience that whatever moved fast and was large, takes a hell of a long damned time to slow the hell down. Especially when that thing was as tall as a two-storey building and longer than a bus.

Her senses gave her the skills needed to hunt and take down prey—allowing her that same bloodthirst the best predators had in spades for when hunger rumbled their stomachs—but senses could be tricked; manipulated; misled. Technology had given humans the ability to trick a predator and distract them in order to bring them down but, even before, humans had long been able to manipulate their surroundings to their advantage—the development of the human race depended on such adaptive capabilities of hominidae ancestors through history. The Indominus may have the ability to blend in with the jungle—able to camouflage perfectly to world around her—but, like the Carnotaurus on Isla Sorna, she was vulnerable to rapid changes of light in her surroundings.

And the instincts of Carnotaurus wouldn't serve her well when the world around her changed suddenly and unexpectedly.

The Indominus was the pinnacle of the Lab's work, but she was still as much a victim of her instincts as anything else. They ruled her more harshly, more destructively, than Owen's ruled him.

He had more than twenty years of practice fighting his own instincts—wrangling them back down and letting calm, human reasoning take the front seat. The Indominus didn't have that.

And he'd use that lack of experience against her.

Owen refused to give up, to  _give_   _in_ , and let the Indominus kill them all. He hadn't given in to his instincts in a long time—the Indominus wasn't going to have him jumping ship now.

Not now.

Not  _ever._

"The Indominus needs to be brought down," Owen stated firmly into the quiet hush that had fallen in the control room after he'd stormed out.

Hoskins was nowhere to be seen but Owen noticed how the InGen Security members were deferring to ACU and Claire, a frisson of approval flitting through him as he watched everyone in his line of sight with sharp, hard eyes. That boded well for them.

"She's impossible to kill though!" One of the technicians exclaimed, voice high with fear.

"Nothing is impossible to kill," Owen countered. "Just really fucking difficult."

"What can we do?" Claire asked, recognising that Owen had more experience with neutralising… dangerous things than she did.

And the Indominus  _definitely_ rated as dangerous.

Owen smiled at her—though it was more of a dark grimace. "She might have mutant DNA in her genetic cocktail, but that doesn't mean she's got the  _corresponding_   _mutations_. Genetics are finicky things at the best of times and hers are all a blend of a dozen different predators with significant differences in attributes, hunting strategies and behaviour traits. Her instincts may be predatory but some of her DNA codes for ambush predators and scavengers; and we can use that against her."

"But figuring out what behavioural traits she'll exhibit when confronted is impossible to tell from her DNA," Claire countered sharply, eyes wide with disbelief. "Geneticists still don't understand how the  _human_ genome works with the X-gene Owen; how can we even begin to guess what the Indominus will do based on  _her_ DNA?"

Owen looked at Claire. "True," he conceded, a slight incline of his head at Claire. "But we've already seen some of the behaviour we can use against her—she can camouflage, set a trap and ambush prey. All of that points to Carnotaurus DNA—which we  _know_ she has—along with the intelligence of a Velociraptor."

Owen glanced around the Control Room.

"We can use that against her." He said, he as he stared at Claire.

"How are we going to manage that?" Masrani asked—off to the side, leaning against a computer—frowning at Owen. "She may have these—" Masrani waved a hand "—behavioural traits, but we've already seen how intelligent she is mister Grady. She remembered where her tracker was implanted!"

Owen looked at Masrani, taking in the way the CEO stood in the Control Room. Like the rest of the Park staff, he was far from Owen—the only ones close him the result of where Owen stood rather than any voluntary proximity—and watching the raptor trainer with a slightly apprehensive look on his face.

No, not apprehensive,  _wary._ The same sort of look that Owen saw on the faces of those who visited the raptor paddock and saw his girls hunt for the first time, or follow his commands during training.

"Intelligence doesn't mean anything when your instincts are screaming at you to run or hide," Owen explained, raising a hand, claws extending as he did so—specks of Hoskins blood still visible on the tips.

"We're all animals, no matter how evolved we are," Owen said softly into the quiet of the room. "Our instincts tell us how to act; who to defer to in an argument; what road not to take in the dark. We have an instinctual fear of the dark, of the unknown—and of the different."

Retracting his claws suddenly, Owen dropped his hand down to his side, gaze sharp.

"There isn't a single creature on this planet that doesn't fear  _something_ ," Owen said, staring at Claire and Masrani. "The Indominus is no different. She feels fear. We need to trigger that fear response in her—use her instinctive response against her. If we can distract her with her  _own_   _instincts_  trying to pull her between attacking and fleeing—and they  _will_  because the T-Rex's instincts to danger are very different to my girls—we might have a chance to get in close and kill her."

"But  _how?"_ Lowery exclaimed, throwing out a hand in exasperation. "The Indominus literally heals from  _anything_ dude! There's nothing on the Island that can take her down! Even  _Rexy_ doesn't heal like her. And she's the biggest thing on here!"

Owen stared at Lowery.

He smirked.

"No, she's not," he disagreed. "We just need to get the Indominus within range and let nature do its job." Owen raised an eyebrow sarcastically. "Easy."

 

* * *

 

"Are you sure about this Owen?" Barry asked, frowning as he looked at the raptor trainer. "They've never been field-tested like this."

Owen paused, hands stilling on the rifle he was cleaning. He gave his friend and fellow trainer a calm, measured look.

"They'll follow me Barry," Owen murmured. "They want the Indominus gone as much as we do. More."

"How can you be so sure Owen?" Barry glanced over at the paddock, illuminated in the darkness by the floodlights around it. "They're animals, not soldiers."

Owen understood his friend's concern, his worry. Hoskins had been on them for years about the raptors, about weaponising them for war. And everytime Owen had reminded the Head of InGen Security that the raptors weren't soldiers—wild animals raised in a cage were still wild animals, just with a knowledge of human interaction. A tiger or bear would potentially be less dangerous if they'd have prior exposure to humans, but not always. The raptors were, as a rule, the reverse. Knowledge of humans just meant they would be able to kill them better.

Alan Grant's time on Isla Sorna had told the world that much.

"They're my girls Bar," Owen said softly. "I trust them. I  _know_ them. This Island is their home. That means anything on this Island that doesn't belong is a threat. Anything that challenges the pack is a danger that needs to be dealt with."

Owen placed the rifle down on the table in the den, staring at his friend with a heavy look on his face. He was still troubled by what Wu had done, but he hadn't discussed it with anyone—the knowledge that the Indominus had  _his DNA_ wasn't something he felt he could share. He didn't know he even  _felt_ about it other than mutely horrified.

"The Indominus is part raptor Barry," he explained lowly. "They made a hybrid with T-Rex and raptor DNA and didn't consider how important socialisation is for a raptor. She's insane. She's been  _made_  insane. The pack _wants_ her put down because she's an insane animal that will lead them to destruction if she tries to take over the pack. And they  _know_   _that."_

Barry stared at Owen, dark eyes troubled. Owen's words did little to reassure the man, but he understood what Owen was getting at. Reading between the lines.

"None of your girls have ever challenged you for dominance of the pack," Barry said, staring at Owen with wide eyes. "Not past adolescence at least."

Owen shook his head. "Pushing boundaries," he refuted. "Not the same. They were testing to see how far I'd give, not trying to take over the pack. Raptors like a stable pack, you know that—better than most. My girls like that stability even more." Owen frowned. "They're attached to me—more than is typical for a raptor."

Barry was silent, watching as Owen thought something over—something important.

"The Indominus  _hates_  me Bar', she literally despises my existence. The pack doesn't like that." Owen's gaze locked onto the paddock his girls were in, waiting. "A threat to the alpha is a threat to the pack. The Indominus isn't challenging me, she doesn't know  _how_   _to_ —she's got none of the social skills of my girls, just the instincts; she doesn't know how to handle intra-pack interaction. It's the only reason I know she won't be able to take the girls from me—even if she manages to kill me."

Barry stared at Owen. "Merde Owen," he whispered. "I hope you're right."

Owen looked at him, an amused glint in his eyes. "Hope's got nothing to do with it."

"Try not to die my friend," Barry said, clapping Owen on the shoulder and smiling slightly. "And bring your pack back in one piece Alpha."

Owen's eyes softened, a soft smile blossoming on his face as he nodded at his friend and fellow trainer. "That's the plan bar', that's the plan."

 

* * *

 

A dozen ACU and InGen Security members were huddled around the table in the den, a live feed to the Control Room giving them updates on the projected path of the Indominus. Owen stood at the head of the table, a topographical map of the Island spread out in front of him.

"We know that she's in Sector Five—" Owen pointed at the sector on the map, the grey outline of the sector highlighting how close to the Park the Indominus was "—this is a game we call  _Hide and Seek._ A scent drill that we've done a thousand times before. The pack knows the Restricted Area better than us—" Owen stared at the men and women around him, looking each of them in the eye "—so when they get on target, and they  _will_ get on target, wait for my call. Velociraptors are pack hunters, they'll herd prey into a kill zone."

A loud screech from the stalls where the pack were holed up—tense and impatient for the hunt to start—had several of InGen Security tensing. Owen stared at them, a hard look in his eyes.

"We can't kill the Indominus with anything we've got, not even with the pack. Tranqs don't work on her so we can't sedate her either. We need to get her cornered, isolated and distracted." Owen continued, pointing down at the map again, this time at the red mark he'd drawn on it. " _This_ is where we need to lure her. Try not to get yourselves killed. We have one good target, and only one. The raptors are not a threat to you so long as you  _don't shoot them._ For this, you're pack-allies. They'll tolerate your presence because they're after bigger fish. You shoot at my girls; it's not them you'll need to worry about."

Barry, standing a few feet away, cleared his throat pointedly. Owen's eyes flickered to his friend.

"Please don't shoot my raptors," Owen said, voice milder and with a note of begging in it. The men and women around him shifted, an almost interceptable release of tension, and Owen's lips twitched.

"Now let's move out!" Owen snapped, voice hardening again to the no-nonsense tone he'd used everyday in the Navy.

Immediately ACU and InGen Security snapped to action—several hurrying off to the trucks they'd be taking, others checking their gear one last time. Owen watched in approval, feeling a low current of positive emotion from his pack at the activity.

 _'Not long to go now girls,'_ Owen thought, intentionally directing his thoughts towards his pack. They couldn't understand him—not in the way a telepath would—but they felt the emotions he projected at them, and the promising feel of a hunt had them vying for action.  _'Not long to go.'_

Owen moved over towards the stalls, his senses picking up his pack as he approached. Blue was closest to him, the pack beta ready and waiting for her alpha. She hissed at him through the reinforced doors of the stall.

Owen smiled. "You don't scare me Blue," he murmured, raising a hand and resting it on the door over the holes. He felt hot breath on the palm of his hand as Blue huffed at him.

"It'll be okay girl," he said, resting his head against the door. "We just need to lead her. Taking her down isn't gonna be our job."

 _'I hope.'_ Owen heard a low rumble from his beta, echoed by the rest of the pack. Reassurance.

They were reassuring their alpha; that his plan was a good one; that it would work. They'd  _make_ it work.

Owen had no doubt that they would.

Someone shouted, a horn honked and Owen straightened up, turning to stare at the activity in front of the paddock.

It was time.

 

* * *

 

Claire watched avidly—stood behind Vivian's desk in the Control Room—as the team set out. Owen and his raptors were ahead; raptors racing through the underbrush alongside their alpha, and Claire knew the only reason they even knew where the raptors were was because of the cameras.

They were the perfect ambush predators—fast and silent death with taloned-feet.

And that worried Claire more than anything.

The Indominus was part raptor—it had the same DNA, the same instincts as the pack. Already it had shown that it could lay a trap and use the environment to its advantage.

Claire feared that it would do so again.

 _'Please let this work,'_ she thought desperately, hands gripping the fabric of Vivian's seat.  _'It has to work.'_

"They move fast," Simon murmured from beside Claire, eyes affixed to the display showing them the feeds from the raptors and several ACU members. "I didn't think they were that quick."

"The raptors from the first Park managed speeds of over sixty miles an hour," Wu said, voice soft as he stared at the screen. There was something in his eyes that had Simon reaching out with his ability, sending a wave of comfort at the geneticist. Wu glanced at him, a slight quirk to his lips. He gave Simon a slight nod of thanks. "When they...  _escaped_ , they stuck mostly to the jungle—hiding in the trees. But they were very good at chasing prey no matter the distance."

Wu's voice took on a slight lecturing quality—the same tone he used when explaining his work to anyone who lacked the scientific background to understand it. "Unlike a Cheetah for example, Velociraptors are better equipped to handle long distance running—increased stamina and greater the speed, you can imagine how effective they were hunting their prey."

"Useful when your prey is just as quick as you are," Simon commented and Wu nodded.

"The cat loses out to the lizard that can match it with ease," Wu quipped, arching an eyebrow at Simon who huffed out an amused breath.

"Let us hope so," Simon said, gaze returning to the display. "Let us hope so."

 

* * *

 

Owen whistled—revving the engine of his bike as he sped through the jungle—his girls darting about around him. Blue kept pace with his bike on his left, covering him, and Delta snaked close on his right; breathing guards on his flank. Charlie and Echo darted about in front and behind—scouting ahead and covering the rear.

It was strangely relaxing to be out with them again. Racing through the jungle. Hunting.

Like they were having a normal pack bonding time in the Restricted Section.

The emotions he could sense from his pack—so alien to his human mind, but also so achingly familiar because they were his girls and they'd been with him for  _years_ —had Owen smirking.

They were bonding—bonding over planning to kill the Indominus.

As good a thing to bond over as anything really, Owen mused dryly. There were worse things to bond over.

A shriek had Owen slowing down; Charlie alerting the pack that they were close.

The truck with ACU and InGen Security in it slowed down, coming to a rumbling stop ten feet away from Owen as he skidded to a stop—mud kicked up by the wheels of his bike splattering his jeans and forearms.

The pack jerked, pulling back suddenly, and Owen had four dangerous predators surrounding him for a moment before another whistle had them moving. Blue remained closest to Owen, Delta the next closest; Charlie and Echo furthest away but no more than twenty feet away to either side of him.

They formed a breathing, scaled and clawed wall of protective, territorial intent.

Blue barked at him purposefully, loud in the tense silence of the jungle. Owen glanced at her as he slid off his bike, placing a hand on her flank in an effort to calm her.

In a corner of Owen's mind—in the place where his awareness of the conscious minds on the Island hid—a flare of activity had him tensing, a low growl starting to build in his chest.

A low warbling sound from the dark jungle in front of him had his eyes flashing, claws extending on reflex.

The Indominus was here.

Turning his head slightly, Owen raised a hand, gesturing sharply for ACU to get into position. They needed to be ready in case the Indominus didn't take the bait.

Owen doubted that she wouldn't though.

Not with what he was planning.

Blue barked again, the sound tapering off into a low hiss that Owen vaguely recognised as having heard his beta use once, long ago. It was a call she'd made to a Compy that had snuck through the fences and reached the paddock back when she'd been no more than two months old—all tumbling limbs, snarling teeth and sharp claws. It wasn't a call for assistance, for help, and it certainly wasn't a call for a packmate. It was an alert call— _I know you're there, come out._

The Indominus responded.

"Hold," Owen murmured, the throat mic picking up the command. The troopers in the jungle were tense but didn't open fire.

Large grey limbs appeared out of the darkness of the jungle, a teeth-filled snout and muddy-amber eyes. Owen didn't dare look away, even as his pack tensed, standing ready with their alpha.

He hadn't explained to Claire or the others what his distraction was going to be, playing up that the presence of his pack would capture the Indominus' attention. Owen figured that only Wu had any idea what Owen had planned but the geneticist hadn't said a word.

Owen glanced at his pack, looking at Blue with a calm, penetrating stare. He could feel her reaching for him, the entire pack reaching for him—the strands of DNA Wu's colleague had added to them giving them a low-level telepathic connection to him; one Owen hadn't understood or accepted for years.

He accepted it now.

It didn't feel any different. Nothing earth shattering happened. Owen simply had more awareness of his pack—one moment it was a low hum, the next it was like someone had turned the radio up loud enough to be heard rather than just felt.

He breathed out. Back in. Out again.

Then he was moving.

A hissing snarl from Echo was all the warning ACU had before the raptors were moving; tearing through the underbrush and the the trees, heading straight for the Indominus.

The Indominus let out an enraged shriek—the end tapering off like a raptor roar—but it didn't deter the pack. She slashed out at Echo, missing the quick raptor even as Charlie snapped at her heel and took a chunk of flesh with her as she darted away.

Blue and Delta launched themselves at the Indominus—distracted by Charlie and Echo as she was, she wasn't quick enough to prevent the two raptors from leaping onto her side; sickle claws digging in and slicing scaled flesh easily.

The Indominus let out a pained screech, stumbling back into a large tree and uprooting it as she slammed against it.

Owen covered the distance from his bike to the Indominus, sprinting at full speed he springboarded off the jungle ground at the Indominus. His claws found purchase in its neck, cutting deeply as he swiftly climbed towards her head.

The Indominus roared, reaching up to try and slash at Owen on her neck, but a well-timed attack by Charlie and Echo had her miss the feral mutant by a hair's breadth.

Owen managed to clamber up onto the Indominus' head; claws helping him find purchase between the large scales that covered the side of her head, protecting her skull. He snarled, viciously slashing at the muddy-amber eye swivelling about—claws cutting through the eye like it was confetti paper.

Rearing up with a pained roar, the Indominus stumbled back into another tree, crushing it with her weight. Blue and Delta leapt from her back with loud yips blending in with the Indominus' screeches of pain—scattering into the darkness of the jungle.

Charlie darted between her legs, snapping at her heels as she blitzed past and disappeared into the jungle. Echo joining her packmates after nipping at the Indominus' tail viciously.

ACU was still holding, watching Owen and his pack attack the Indominus. Now they watched as Owen clung to her head, eyes blazing a bright, fervent green in the darkness of the jungle, and let loose a roar of his own.

His pack had done their job for now.

Now it was Owen's turn.

"Time to make you afraid," Owen snarled, eyes flaring green. Already he could see the Indominus' eye starting to heal in the moonlight filtering through the tree canopy—slower than his own accelerated healing but still considerably faster than the norm for dinosaurs. He slashed at the eye again, undoing the healing his DNA provided, and eliciting another pained shriek from the Indominus.

The Indominus lowered its head, swiping at its head with its claws just as Owen leapt back out of the way of them;landing on the Indominus' back in a half-crouch.

 _'Time to ramp things up,'_ Owen though, a rumbling snarl slipping from his lips.

Owen lashed out at the Indominus, taking advantage of its pain and distraction to bulldoze his way into its mind. He ignored how much it hurt to break past the natural resistance a conscious mind possessed, focusing on her overwhelming presence.

Chaos.

She was utter chaos.

Feeling like a thousand sharp blades being rammed into his eyes Owen hissed, dropping to his knees atop the Indominus, claws digging into its hide to keep him from being tossed.

The Indominus swung around, roaring at the intrusion into her mind, viciously lashing out on instinct against Owen's mind.

It was like being hit by a truck doing ninety down the highway.

He gritted his teeth, feeling his fangs digging into his lips and splitting them, causing tiny rivulets of blood to trickle down his chin.

Pushing through the pain, through the chaotic disorder of the Indominus' mind, Owen forced his way deep inside its mind.

The Indominus screeched; half-pain, half-outrage.

A raptor roared off to the side in response.

 _'I can control you eventually,'_ Owen though deliberately, projecting absolute power and dark intent at the Indominus as best he could, knowing that she understood from the violent rage she exuded.  _'You're weak!'_

The final roar the Indominus let out—full of rage and fear—was what Owen had been waiting for as he dug around in the Indominus' mind, showcasing his strength.

Not wasting a moment, Owen leapt off the Indominus, violently ripping himself free of its mind as he did so. His boot-clad feet hit the jungle floor with a loud thump, knees bending to take the force of the impact with the ground. His head snapped up, eyes blazing, and Owen snapped into action.

"FIRE!" He roared at ACU, tearing through the jungle away from them, knowing the Indominus would follow. "FIRE THE RPG!"

Moments later an explosion rocked the jungle, fire illuminating the dark area even as Owen ran from it. The fire would serve to deter the Indominus—Spino DNA especially working to deter her from remaining in the area.

The raptors would keep pace with her; watching her for Control as she rampaged through the jungle. And Owen…

A shriek sounded in the jungle behind him from the Indominus; angered posturing trying to mask the burning fear Owen could feel from her.

The ground rumbled.

Owen's lip curled.

She was taking the bait.

Sprinting as fast as he could—pushing himself even as the ground shook from the force of the Indominus chasing after him—Owen focused on his route through the jungle, trying to figure out the quickest way through the dense trees.

He needed to get to the Park.

The guests had been shepherded underground; the sublevels of the Park more than large enough to house several thousand guests until sunrise. They wouldn't be in danger from the Indominus.

But, if Owen didn't manage to pull this off, it wouldn't matter how safe they were underground. Eventually the Indominus would figure out a way to get to them and that couldn't be allowed to happen. The Indominus needed to be put down; for everyone's sake.

 

* * *

 

_"Holy shit!"_

Lowery's exclamation was a succinct summary of the reaction of everyone in Control when Owen launched himself at the Indominus.

"Is he insane!" Claire almost shouted, staring at the display with wide eyes.

_"Wow."_

Claire whirled around, staring at her nephew's leaning through the door to the Control Room—both of them watching the display with wide eyes.

" _That_ is badass," Zach said, eyebrows raised. "Seriously badass."

Claire blinked, distracted by the presence of Zach and Gray. Her attention was dragged back to the display at the sound of Grady roaring into his mic "FIRE THE RPG!"

The entire Control Room watched in wide eyed horror as the feeds from ACU and the raptors lit up. The raptor feed changed, their GPS trackers pinging as they began to run through the jungle again.

"Where the  _hell_ is Grady?" Claire demanded, eyes darting through the feeds, looking for the feral.

"Uh…" Lowery tapped his screen and the display for the Control Room changed—the raptor feeds down the side, ACU along the bottom, and in the center. "Running very fast?"

"What!?" Claire stayed in dismay as the readouts for the GPS tracker on Grady showed him moving away from ACU. "Where  _the hell_ is he going?"

"He's heading for the Park." Vivian's voice was panicked, full of repressed fear as she reported on Owen's location. "Estimated time of a arrival is ten minutes at his current speed. The Indominus is five minutes behind."

"And the raptors?" Wu asked, staring at the display with haunted eyes. "Their implants don't shock them unlike the rest of the predators."

Vivian turned in her chair, staring at Claire, Simon and Wu. "Seven minutes," she answered.

"What do we do?" Lowery asked, voicing the question that they all thought. A question that needed an answer—and fast.

Claire had no idea. She stared at the display blankly, eyes not really seeing the constantly changing feed from the raptors as they ran through the jungle, or the blips on the map of the Island showing the location of ACU and Grady. Her mind was working furiously, trying to figure out what they could do.

They couldn't evacuate the guests; they were safer in the sublevels.

They couldn't evacuate Control; they were needed to coordinate.

ACU was out in the jungle; not enough left behind in Control to justify engaging the Indominus.

"Let Mister Grady fight the Indominus," Wu ordered in the silence of the Control Room, everyone looking at him in varying degrees of surprise and confusion. "He's the only one that can fight her."

"What do you mean Henry?" Simon asked, looking at the geneticist. "Why Owen Grady?"

Wu stared at the display.

"Mister Grady is an omega-level mutant who never underwent gene therapy," Wu said softly. "Unless you know of another omega-level mutant whose mutation hasn't been decimated by the therapy, Mister Grady may be the only person who may be able to kill the Indominus."

Claire didn't move, didn't shift uncomfortably at Wu's words, but she did tense slightly.

"But he's a feral." Simon frowned, brow furrowing as he tried to understand what Wu was saying. "Feral mutants never rank above alpha-level."

Most physical mutations, like that of a feral, were usually recorded as being between alpha and beta-level; never omega. It was unheard of!

Wu looked at Simon, a bitter smile on his face." Mister Grady isn't a feral," he said softly. "He's a mimic. And a terrifyingly powerful one too. Any power he's exposed to over a long period of time, he stands a significant likelihood of developing.  _That's_ his mutation. The feral mutation is his secondary."

Wu's smile grew, brightening as he turned to stare at the display—Owen's GPS tracker blinking a reassuring blue on the map of the Island. "He's the only one who can stop the Indominus. It's in his very DNA."

 

* * *

 

Owen threw himself through the last line of trees and bushes of the jungle, panting heavily as he stumbled out onto one of the back routes for the Park. The Park backways were easily accessible from the jungle really, once you got past the large security doors that dotted the perimeter walls. Designed for ease of movement once you got into the Park grounds, the backways enabled quick and efficient travel for Park staff all over the place—from the veterinary building to the animal enclosures—and Owen took advantage of it now.

Looking around he bite back an amused huff as he realised just where he'd managed to stumble out of the jungle, recognising the same blue service doors two hundred yards away that signalled the entry onto the main part of the Park. Owen glanced behind him, an amused smile slipping onto his face.

Small fucking world.

A loud roar from behind him in the jungle had Owen moving again, boots thumping against the concrete floor as he ran. He was running as fast as he could—faster than he could ever remember managing before—but it was taking it out of him. He wasn't built for prolonged endurance runs like this.

Not through a fucking jungle with a fifty-foot-long predator after his hide.

A deep green shape darted out from the jungle, speedily joining Owen at his side. He glanced over and grinned. Delta hissed at him.

 _'Nice to see you in one piece too girl,'_ Owen thought, sharp eyes cataloguing the state his third was in. Not too bad considering she'd thrown herself at a fifty-foot-long hybrid. A few scratches here and there, but nothing serious.

Owen prayed that was all she'd have from this night.

All  _any of them_ would have.

A bark caught his attention and another shape appeared—Blue—easily keeping up with Owen as he ran.

He was being flanked by two  _Velociraptors._ Alan Grant would be cursing his name if he ever found out.

So, would Ian Malcolm probably.

Owen grinned at the mental image that thought conjured before a staccato series of clicks and hisses had his attention on the last two members of his pack joining him.

Charlie snaked in front, scouting ahead; Echo fell in behind, head turning constantly to allow her to watch the receding jungle behind them. As a single unit, they moved quickly along the back path towards the open doors Owen had already been through  _once before today._

It was with a striking case of déjà vu that Owen ran out into the public area of the Park and down the street. The sharp clicking of raptor claws served to keep him focused on the mission at hand.

Owen came to an abrupt stop about twenty feet from the large fountain just in front of the lagoon, panting heavily. The pack slid to a halt around him, immediately fanning out to form a line ready to face the Indominus.

It only took minutes for the large form of the Indominus to appear at the end of the street—her large form slamming into the doors to the back pathways, denting them and warping the metal from the force. Owen squared his shoulders.

The pack tensed.

Owen whistled.

The Indominus roared.

"Distract!" Owen shouted, pushing the thought at his pack as he did so. "Go!"

As one the pack shot forward, Blue at the front leading the charge. The Indominus screeched at them; head coming up, claws slashing through the air in an instinctive display of aggression.

So very T-Rex.

Owen trusted his girls to keep themselves safe, smart as they were, but he wanted this over with as quickly as possible.

So, for the first time ever, Owen actively reached out for the largest animal on the Island—calmly coasting through its enclosure with a relaxed air.

Staring at the deep, dark water of the lagoon, Owen prayed that this would work.

 

* * *

 

 _"What's he doing?"_ Lowery asked, tapping away at his screen as Control watched Grady and his pack stop in front of the fountain on Main Street. "He's right out in the open!"

No one answered, too wrapped up in watching everything unfold.

Zach and Gray stood with their aunt, Gray clinging to her while Zach pressed in close against her. All three of them watched the display with baited breath.

Simon and Wu, standing together off to the side, exchanged a loaded look before focusing on the camera feed showing them Owen and his pack.

There was sound on the video feed and they all clearly heard the roar of the Indominus and Grady's command to "distract" to the raptors.

Watching the raptors attack the Indominus, the entire Control Room was silent—awed at the way the pack worked to distract the Indominus; snapping at her heels, hissing to catch her attention, repeatedly darting out of the way of her claws and teeth.

They were watching a battle between apex predators.

"There's not enough teeth." Gray murmured, staring at the feed along with everyone else.

Claire looked down at her nephew. "What?"

"Teeth." Gray looked up at Claire, eyes wide. "We need more teeth."

Claire stared at her nephew, trying to process, trying to understand, what Grey meant.

Teeth.

_Teeth!_

"Stay right here, both of you!" Claire ordered them firmly, pulling away from them. She looked around the Control Room, taking in the sight of the people she had put in danger with the Indominus.

She owed them.

Turning on her heel, Claire stalked out of the Control Room, snatching one of the ACU members walkie talkies as she did so. He looked at her, mouth open to protest, but his words died on his lips at the look on Claire's face.

She walked down the corridor, heading towards the external exit for Control—stopping only to grab a road flare out of one of the emergency kits that could be found all over the Park.

Outside was empty, not even any guards out in the open with the Indominus about. It suited Claire just fine. She climbed on a quad bike—forever thankful that she'd been forced to ride one once, back when the Park was still under construction and many of the roads were little more than dirt tracks—revving the engine as she tore out of the impromptu parking lot for Control.

The Park was less than five minutes away from Control by vehicle. If Grady could hold out for five more minutes, then Claire might be able to even the score a little.

She hoped so.

 

* * *

 

Owen let out a pained hiss when Delta went flying, the Indominus finally managing to land a hit that had his third careening through the aid. She hit the ground with a sickening crack and didn't move.

She was still alive though—Owen could still feel her mind—unconscious instead of dead.

"Shit!" Owen was already moving before he realised, darting down the street towards his downed girl. He fell to the floor beside Delta—hands reaching out to grip her body and  _pull._ Half bent over, Owen heaved his third back, away from the fight with the Indominus, and off to the side.

A pained screech from the Indominus had Owen's head snapping up, eyes locked on the sight of the Indominus pawing at her face.

Blue had clawed out her eyes.

A vicious revenge for her injured packsister.

 _'Atta girl,'_ Owen thought, carefully climbing to his feet.

The Indominus was nowhere near where she needed to be for Owen's plan to work. But she wasn't going to be easy to get there, keeping well back from the edge of the lagoon.

He didn't know what he could do to get her closer but he did know that he needed to do  _something._ His girls were tiring and it wouldn't be long before the Indominus seriously injured, or even killed one of them.

Fuck.

With a snarl Owen was running again—covering the distance to the Indominus quickly—and, pulling out a move from his short time playing soccer as a kid, Owen did a slide tackle along the concrete between the Indominus' legs. The skin on his leg and side burned from the friction but Owen ignored it, focusing on slicing through the Indominus' hide.

With a surprised shriek the Indominus stumbled, falling down onto its side as the ligaments in its ankle were suddenly severed from Owen's vicious attack.

The pack—taking sudden advantage of the Indominus' vulnerable state—darted forward as one entity. Blue snapped at one of her arms, teeth sinking into the grey flesh. Charlie and Echo going for the vulnerable stomach.

A loud roar distracted them all.

Owen's head shot up, staring down the street. His eyes widened.

The T-Rex was three-hundred-feet away, head high, jaws parted, eyes sharp and flaring with territorial anger.

_Holy shit._

"Holy shit," he whispered.

The Indominus let loose a roaring shriek, pushing herself up from the ground, kicking out at the pack and forcing them back. Owen scrambled away, avoiding being stood on by pure chance.

The pack moved back, Owen hesitantly signalling for them to back off, as the Indominus and the T-Rex roared at each other.

"RUN!"

Owen blinked.

 _Claire Dearing_ was stood at the bottom of the Spinosaurus skeleton on display, hair a mess, skirt dirtied.

He had no idea how to process the sight of the Park Operations Manager standing only a few feet from the Tyrannosaur.

A rumbling shriek from the Indominus had his attention snapping to the two giant predators. The T-Rex started to move, giant, thundering footfalls shaking the very world around her, the Indominus breaking out into a run in response.

Owen watched in awe as the two clashed—a collision of teeth and rumbling snarls that made the world tremble.

 

* * *

 

Deep in the depths of the lagoon, the Mosasaur stirred—drawn from her waking slumber by the mind reaching out to her.

The water was her home, her domain. Nothing challenged her in the water.

But she was a hunter at heart. Anything too close to the water was prey. And prey existed to be eaten.

No matter how big it was.

 

* * *

 

"Go!" Owen snarled at his pack, breaking out into a run, heading for the two giant predators fighting.

He trusted that his girls would help the T-Rex with the Indominus, but he wasn't going to sit on the sideline anymore.

The Indominus was going down and Owen was going to make that happen.

Taking a flying leap, Owen managed to land on the tail of the Indominus, scrambling for purchase as it whipped about wildly. He managed to reach its back, claws digging in deeply as he struggled to remain atop the Indominus.

He crawled along her back, slashing and slicing repeatedly.

The T-Rex roared, jaws opening wide as she lunged at the Indominus; teeth carving into grey flesh and muscle like it was nothing.

The Indominus shrieked, clawed forearm reaching and gouging the T-Rex's side, causing the T-Rex to let go of the Indominus' neck.

Charlie darted forward, nipping at the Indominus' leg, at the same time as Blue leapt onto the T-Rex's back and sprung onto the Indominus' head. She clawed at the Indominus' healed eyes, gouging lines along its snout.

Echo skipped between the two giant predator's legs, biting and clawing as best she could manage while avoiding being stepped on.

Owen managed to climb to his feet on the Indominus' back, scrambling along closer to its head. He glanced at Blue, proud of his best girl being so enthusiastically vicious.

The Indominus jerked its head back suddenly and Blue fell off with a surprised yelp, Owen tumbling off its head, barely managing to dig his claws into its neck to prevent being flung off as the Indominus tossed its head up.

With an aggressive roar, the Indominus rammed into the T-Rex, driving the T-Rex back, nearer to the lagoon.

In the dark water, Owen felt a spike of intent.

"Shit!" He hissed, swinging an arm up and clawing at the Indominus, putting as much force behind it as he could manage.

The Indominus—distracted by the sudden strength of Owen's attack—swung its head around, hissing viciously in pain.

The T-Rex—taking advantage of the Indominus' distraction—rammed into her and sending her stumbling into the guide rail around the lagoon.

Owen cursed, holding on for dear life as the Indominus half leaned over the railing surrounding the lagoon. He looked down at the dark water.

The Mosasaur was approaching.

Shit.

Oh, double shit.

Owen really didn't want to become Mosa-chow tonight.

Looking around frantically, Owen tried to scramble up the Indominus' side, but the way the Indominus was bobbing and weaving as she postured at the T-Rex and pack made it all but impossible for him to climb.

Owen's gaze was caught by the Indominus' tail, whipping back and forth.

The Mosa was closer now, too close.

Owen cursed and jumped.

Slamming into the tail, it was instinct that saved Owen—arms wrapping around the powerful limb as it swung around in a vicious arc. With a surprised hiss, Owen let go when the ground below him was concrete rather than dark water.

The air in his lungs was slammed out of him by the force that Owen impacted the wall of the souvenir store—stone splintering and chipping from how hard he hit it.

Landing with a pained thump on the ground, Owen blinked awkwardly, feeling blood trickle down the back of his head. The Indominus was beginning to move, roaring at the T-Rex.

A jet of orange flames slammed into the Indominus' side, causing it to squeal and leap back, one of its legs slipping over the edge of the lagoon.

Owen dizzily looked over at the source of the flames, blinking dumbly as he tried to process the sight of Claire with a palm of flames still standing by the Spinosaurus skeleton.

The Indominus screeched.

The T-Rex roared.

The pack hissed.

Owen felt like there was a low hum in his mind, messing with his focus more than slamming into a wall did.

He stared at the sight before him of the predators posturing at each other.

He felt it the moment the Mosasaur breached the surface.

He saw its giant jaws appear, opening wide and snapping shut around the Indominus which let out an agonised, surprised shriek.

And then it was gone.

Only the T-Rex and the pack remained.

Owen's eyes slipped shut, unconsciousness claiming him like a blanket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How's that for an awesome fight hmm (although, gods but I hate the way this is written lol).


	16. Clean Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His body hurt. _Everything_ hurt.
> 
> "Owen?"
> 
> "I hate walls— _Oh fuck me._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This. Was. Meant. To. Be. The. Last. Chapter. DAMNIT. BRAIN. _WHY_

"Is he going to be okay?" A worried voice—familiar, female, usually full of quiet irritation—asked, and damn but was it loud to his sensitive ears.

His body hurt.  _Everything_ hurt.

"His body is already mostly healed Miss Dearing. But, honestly, I think Mister Grady has exhausted himself and needs the rest," another voice, male—a doctor, judging by the scent of antiseptic wash—replied.

Owen's eye twitched.

He groaned.

"Owen?" Claire said softly, tentatively.

"I hate walls," Owen croaked, forcing his eyes open, hissing at the bright light above him. _"Oh, fuck me."_

"Nice to have you awake Mister Grady," the doctor said, smiling at Owen. "We were worried."

"Accelerated healing doc," Owen quipped, even as his back protested at him wiggling his  _toes._ "Nothing to worry about."

The doctor frowned down at Owen, obviously unamused with his flippant response.

"You may have accelerated healing Mister Grady," the doctor said evenly. "But that doesn't mean you won't benefit from a little medical care. I imagine your back is still painful right now? Your head too probably."

Owen stared at the doctor—the ID badge on his hip revealing him to be a Doctor Alveraz.

"I got thrown into a  _wall_ doc," Owen drawled, slowly shifting in the bed, forcing his tired body up and back. He leaned back against the cushions, fighting back a pleased sigh. "That hurts no matter how good you can heal."

Alveraz sighed, as though dealing with Owen was an exercise in patience.

To be fair to Alveraz, it really was.

Owen hated hospitals—hated dealing with doctors. His feral nature gave him the perfect reason to avoid both when he got himself injured. The accelerated healing was honestly his favourite part of it all.

Though the claws were useful for gripping things like dinosaur hide, so they were pretty good too.

"Mister Grady—" Alveraz began but Owen cut him off, suddenly realising—

—that he didn't remember what happened. It was fuzzy. The pain of slamming into the wall was still sharp to his senses, ache in his back reminding him forcibly of the sound his spine had made—a sickening cracking sound that had been drowned out by a roar. But the rest…

"What happened?" Owen asked, looking at Claire with a sharp look. "The pack? The T-Rex?"

Claire looked at the doctor. With a tired roll of his eyes, Alveraz left without a word, tapping out something on the tablet he held.

Probably something about stubborn trainers.

"What do you remember?" Claire asked, carefully. Tentatively.

"Getting thrown into a wall," Owen answered flatly. Claire winced. "Nothing after."

Claire breathed out heavily, gaze skittering across the room before settling on the window to Owen's right.

"After the Indominus threw you—after the Mosasaur attacked the Indominus, there was suddenly nothing to distract the Tyrannosaur… from you, " Claire said softly, remembered fear in her blue eyes.

Owen heard her heart increase as she spoke— contrary to the calm, flat tone of her voice.

"The pack tried to attack her but—she would have slaughtered them—and I-  _I didn't know what else I could do,"_ Claire whispered. "You know I'm a mutant, right? How could you not, it's not obvious but—but you're sharper than most Owen."

Owen smiled slightly at the back-handed compliment Claire gave him, amused despite himself that even now, when telling him her secret, Claire could still manage to casually compliment and insult Owen without even realising it.

"I wasn't given the gene therapy since it was after I was born, and I was incorrectly identified as alpha-level when I was tested in school." Claire looked at Owen suddenly, blinking away shadows in her eyes. "Pyrokinesis."

"That explains the computer then," Owen said, soft amusement in his voice that had Claire's lips twitching. "And the control thing. Emotional trigger?"

Claire grimaced. "Very sensitive trigger," she agreed.

Owen smiled. "You threw fire at the Indominus?"

She nodded. Owen's smile widened.

"Awesome."

Claire huffed out a surprised laugh.

"Of course, you'd say that," she laughed, shaking her head. "You're a strange man Mister Grady."

"Owen," he replied, waggling his eyebrows at Claire. "Been over this before  _Miss Dearing._ "

Claire smiled at him, crinkles around her eyes. She looked tired—exhausted really—but the laughter made her look less so. Owen preferred that to the tiredness that clung to the Park Operations Manager like a miasma in the air around her.

"What happened to my girls Claire?" Owen asked again, voice soft. He gave Claire a pleading look that begged for an answer.

"The Tyrannosaur tried to attack them after they rallied around you," Claire said after a long, tense moment. "I didn't know what I could do to stop them so I… I…"

"You used your mutation," Owen finished softly.

Claire nodded.

"Did you any of hurt them?" Owen asked gently.

Claire's eyes widened in horror.

"No!" She exclaimed, looking horrified at the very  _idea_ of harming the pack. It gave Owen a warm feeling in his chest, that she was so worried about it.

Many people wouldn't care about the pack like that, seeing only dangerous predators that needed to be put down. But…Owen guessed Claire could relate to them a little about that.

God only knew, Owen certainly could.

"Then it's fine," Owen said, tilting his head slightly. Claire stared at him. "I've used my own mutations against them before Claire, but hurting them is something I've never done. To protect other people—to protect  _them_ —I'd have done the same thing."

"I threw  _fire_ at your pack Owen!" Claire hissed angrily. "I chased them  _away from you_ and you're not angry at me?" She stared at him in disbelief. "I don't understand you."

Owen's lips quirked.

"Most people don't," Owen said, shifting and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His muscles protested but his spine was fine, if a bit tender.

"Where are they now?" He asked, blatantly returning the conversation back to other matters.

Owen definitely didn't want to talk about his weird and wonderful quirks in a hospital room—or  _ever_ really.

"The Tyrannosaur was sedated by ACU and has been transported back to her enclosure." Claire's voice was level, professional again, and Owen could sense the relief she felt at her being able to draw together some semblance of control of the situation.

Omega-level mutants needed control. Their powers demanded it.

Owen had been lucky in a way, his need for control had translated to unwavering command over his instincts. Claire hadn't been so fortunate.

Owen at least had a physical outlet for his emotions, even if he could potentially maul someone. Claire had obviously been made to keep a tight leash on her pyrokinesis for a long time.

He found it sad.

His grandfather had never forced Owen to have perfect control, only ever impressed upon him that knowledge of oneself and discipline were all a person needed to have control of themselves.

"And the pack?" Owen asked, carefully projecting a calmness with his movements, voice and facial expression. He didn't want Claire to feel guilty or go on the defensive now.

"In the Restricted Section," Claire answered, a small spark of annoyance in her eyes. It was tempered by tired amusement though, so Owen wasn't worried. "They still have the cameras on them, so we know their general location. But I've had ACU not engage with them."

"Thank you."

Claire smiled slightly.

"They're about a mile from their enclosure." Claire gave him a knowing look. "Go take your girls home Mister Grady."

Owen smiled.

Standing slowly, he gave Claire a lazy salute. "Yes ma'am."

 

* * *

 

The road up to the raptor paddock was devoid of activity—a direct contradiction to the organised chaos that was the Park in the early hours of the morning, everyone who had remained scrambling to feed the animals, check and re-recheck the systems and provide medical assistance to those who needed it. It was a little jarring then to leave behind all that activity and life behind in the Park, for the tense trek through the Restricted Section up to the raptor paddock less than an hour after he'd woken from his wall-induced unconsciousness.

Pulling up in front of the paddock, Owen sat back on the quad, fingering the keys in the ignition for a moment before he turned the key and the engine cut out. In the quiet of the morning, Owen watched the Costa Rican sun rise slowly over the tops of the trees to the east, enjoying the warm rays on his face as he breathed in the scents of the jungle post-Indominus rampage.

It wasn't as humid as it had been the other day, before the Indominus had fucked everything up, so the warm sunlight was a welcome relief.

It went a long way to leaching the last of the ache in Owen's body as he dismounted the quad, eyes on the paddock with its unlocked gates.

No one had been near the enclosure since the pack had been set loose, most of ACU following into the jungle and the rest hightailing it back to Control when Owen went off-script.

And he just knew he was going to catch flack for that but what else was he meant to have done? Let ACU get turned into red paste with white sticks for decoration? Yeah,  _no._

Walking towards the paddock, Owen cast his senses out—the act itself surprisingly easy in comparison to the times he'd tried it before… all  _this_ happened—picking up on razor sharp intelligence lurking in the trees.

There was intent behind that intelligence, but nothing threatening.

Just watchful.

Stopping beside the gate, Owen turned his gaze onto the jungle to his right, a level, calm expression on his face.

There was no bruising from the fight with the Indominus, no scarring either thankfully, but Owen still felt tender.

He wagered that his girls felt much the same.

"The sooner you come out, the sooner I can check you over and feed you," Owen said aloud, trying to convey the meaning of his words through emotional thoughts.

Naomi had made it sound a heck of a lot easier than it was.

Humans could understand language, no matter the language, because the learning mechanism was predisposed towards linguistic comprehension as a result of kids learning the languages of their parents and ancestors and so on. But with animals it was different. You couldn't just think a sentence and direct it at them, trusting that their own mind would translate the words so they their meaning could be conveyed.

No, animals worked differently. First off, the languages of animals were more physical, behavioural and instinctive than humans. There weren't any artificial concepts for abstract ideas like there is with human language. So trying to convey an idea to an animal was a bit like trying to make a diamond necklace with some pieces of string and glue: it could be done, but it really could go horribly wrong and offend everyone involved.

Natural telepaths with strong mutations often had an easier time communicating with animals, due in part to their comprehension of emotion from a young age. Naomi had always made it seem simple:  _"don't overthink what you want to say Owen, just feel it and they'll understand"_  but that was far easier said than done.

Velociraptors, Alan Grant argued, could have once replaced humans as the dominant species on the planet had dinosaurs not become extinct. Owen had always found his argument interesting, the evidence the paleontologist provided serving to reinforce Owen's own beliefs about raptors: that they were smart, resourceful and a heck of a lot more capable than humans were comfortable with an animal being.

His pack didn't have a language that Owen could speak, not in the way he could speak a human language, but their vocalisations were as distinctive and complex as any human language.

And Owen understood them.

So that was what he used. Vocalisations that elicited feelings of home, safety and alpha projected in time with his words.

The interaction he'd had with the pack, with the Indominus, last night had been a rushed flurry of emotions that he'd hardly put words to and thoughts that had strong emotional connections to them his pack had understood through long-term exposure.

This was different.

The pack had never been out of the paddock like this before.

Never had to fight with their alpha and defend their territory.

Never almost lost.

It was a dangerous situation and Owen needed his pack back in the paddock. Safe. Secure.

He only needed to convince  _them_ of that.

"Seriously girls, you're safer in the paddock," Owen said, not raising his voice, knowing they'd hear him. They were watching him already.

Had been from the moment they'd heard his quad coming up the road.

"Blue."

A lean, reptilian body emerged from the trees.

Owen stared at his beta.

Blue stared back.

"Nice to see you too girl." Owen smiled at his beta as she slowly approached. The jungle behind her twitched. "And the rest of you," he added, smile widening as the rest of the pack stepped out from among the trees.

Charlie was first, watchful of the area. Echo followed, just as watchful but also turning her head to see behind where—

"Delta," Owen breathed, staring at his third.

Limping along after her packsisters, Delta held one clawed forearm close to her chest, head low to protect it.

She obviously hadn't faired as well as her alpha after being thrown by the Indominus.

"Come on girl," softening his voice, Owen waited patiently for his pack to approach, attention mostly on his third. "Let's get you fixed up hmm?"

Delta's head rose slightly. She warbled at him.

"Yeah girl, we'll take care of you," Owen soothed reassuringly, taking a step towards her. Charlie and Echo watched but didn't get in between Owen and his third.

There was no need to. He was their alpha, connected to them in mind and body. Had raised them from hatchling.

If there was anyone on this Island his pack trusted it was him. Because he'd earned that trust.

Gently placing a hand on Delta's neck, Owen could feel the tension in his third—and the pain. She was hurting and no one had been able to treat her because none of the pack would let anyone near them willingly.

Only Owen was the exception.

Alpha.

"Come on girl, let's get you into the stables and get you treated," Owen cajoled softly, a slight positive note to his words as he guided his third towards the paddock.

Delta—usually the fiercest of his girls, always needing an extra eye watching her—followed him like she was a hatchling again.

The rest of the pack fell in around them, protecting the alpha and injured packsister from any potential threat.

Owen found himself immeasurably proud of his girls. Proud and protective.

He wouldn't stand for anything trying to harm them ever again.

Never again.

 

* * *

 

Patching Delta up didn't require the vet to come out—and with so many animals injured or panicked because of the Indominus, Owen had no plan of demanding the vet come out for something he could fix himself—so Owen raided the first aid kit in the den, cannibalising a fair number of bandages in order to make some sort of sling to immobilise Delta's arm until it healed.

He figured she'd heal at about the same rate Echo has when she'd managed to break a tailbone two years ago—and really, the fact she'd taken two days to recover from something that should have taken at least a month, should have been the first sign that something wasn't quite right with their DNA.

That just meant Owen had to keep his pack calm for the next two days when he knew the Park was up in arms, and would be fielding questions and challenges about the ethics of keeping extinct animals in a zoo.

As far as Owen was concerned though, the Park had been running fine before InGen had decided to get involved with their crazy schemes. If anyone wanted to try and have his girls put down… well, ferals in a protective rage really were dangerous things after all.

Especially if they had four Velociraptors on their side.

The unamused look Delta gave him at her arm being immobilised had Owen suppressing laughter, knowing that his third would not be pleased if he started to laugh at her situation.

That was something he'd figured out not long after she'd hit her teen years—Owen quite liked being in one piece rather than all over the stable.

Her leg was simpler to deal with; nothing broken, just a sprained ankle and some pulled muscles in the flank. That at least required rest and some time to heal up.

Owen gave her until later in the day before she'd be able to walk without limping.

Though, knowing his third and her tendency to go for broke when she wanted something, he figured it might be something more like early afternoon.

Delta nuzzled the palm of his hand, hot air puffing out across his fingers as he rubbed her snout.

"You did good Delta," Owen murmured, kneeling beside his third as she half curled up in the nest of wood chips and straw that made up their bed in the stable. "You did brilliantly girl."

There was a warm pulse of something that Owen could only identify as pleasure from Delta; pinging on Owen's awareness of his pack clearly.

He smiled.

God but he loved his girls.

 

* * *

 

By the time Owen had checked the rest of the pack—cleaning out minor cuts and abrasions, convincing Blue to let him check her claws from when she'd attack the Indominus' eyes, and reassured himself that they were alive, alive, alive—it was coming up to late afternoon.

No one had been anywhere near the raptor paddock the entire day.

Owen didn't exactly feel too bad about that fact.

But the peace couldn't last and, less than an hour after relocking the gates to the paddock and disappearing into the den for a snack and some prime real estate in the form of an old sofa, Owen perked up at the sound of a humming engine approaching.

SUV. Park standard.

He was outside, standing ready, for when one of the white Park SUVs pulled up in front of the paddock, relaxing only when he recognised the people inside.

"Claire." Owen nodded to the woman as she climbed out of the car. "See you brought some appreciated back-up," he said, nodding his head in greeting to Barry and the Vet—a frazzled looking man by the name of Imahara who specialised in treating the carnivores.

"We saw through the cameras that you'd returned the pack to their enclosure," Claire explained in answer to the unvoiced question of security.

Owen gave a half shrug in response.

"Figured a vet might come in handy, too right?" He drawled, turning away from them. "Come on—" he waved at them "—they're all sitting pretty to see the company."

Barry snorted, falling into step beside Owen as they headed for the paddock. Claire and Imahara following a step or two behind—Imahara fumbling about in his bag as he searched for something.

The sharp smell of antiseptic cream assaulted Owen's nostrils and he internally rolled his eyes. Of course, Imahara was a big fan of the stuff—something Owen wholeheartedly agreed with the vet on—but damn did the man always choose the creams with the strangest scents.

When asked about it once, Imahara had shrugged and said something about "the Rex likes the smell of it" and left it at that.

Owen had  _no idea_ what the Rex liked about the scent, but he knew that his girls hated it as much as he did.

His lips quirked.

"Hey doc, you know my girls don't— _hey!"_

Imahara smirked at Owen. "I know your pack don't like the smell of this cream Grady," Imahara said. "Which is why it's not for them.  I just thought they'd like a little pack solidarity from their alpha—if they have to suffer the indignity of pungent antiseptic cream, so too should their alpha."

Claire had a hand over her mouth, shoulders trembling with silent laughter. Barry hadn't even bothered; hands on his knees, the other trainer was half-bent over with laughter.

Owen glared at him.

"Thanks doc," Owen deadpanned. "Now I  _know_ I'm gonna be okay."

"Yes, you are Grady." Imahara agreed solemnly, the middle-aged vet giving Owen a look that was quietly haunted. "Though Allah knows how with your lack of self-preservation instincts."

Owen gave Rajah Imahara a soft smile, tinged with the same sort of haunted grief.

Rajah's half-brother had been Navy same as Owen, though a different regiment. Sebal had made it home after his first tour, surviving war lords and the sea only to be killed at the hands of bigoted morons who thought the colour of his skin and religious beliefs meant they could attack him.

Like the bastards who'd killed Naomi had thought.

It had taken a year of tentative friendship between the raptor trainer and the vet before either had broached the subject of why they were the way they were—Imahara was a quiet man, reluctant to make friends outside of his small circle of acquaintances in order to minimise the risk to himself from bigots; while Owen was friendly and charming with everyone but close to few, reluctant to extend any sort of trust or faith to people because it hurt to lose them in the end.

With the revelation that both of them knew intimately what it was like to lose a loved one to human hatred, their friendship had grown into a strange mix of sarcasm, general annoyance and legitimate concern.

More often than not, Owen preferred Imahara to treat his girls; the vet knowing that Owen wouldn't let  _anyone_ near his girls if he didn't at least trust they wouldn't chew on said 'anyone’ and Owen greatly appreciated that trust Imahara placed in him. Not many would take such a risk with their limbs.

Though he  _could_ survive without the antiseptic smeared across the back of his skull where it was still tender.

"They're in the stable," Owen said, motioning at Imahara who huffed out a breath before stomping over to the paddock. "I'll get them into the stalls for you but Delta isn't going to be moving—I don't want to aggravate her leg until it's a hundred percent."

Imahara nodded.

"Knew you had to have some sort of brain in that head of yours Grady," he quipped. "Always a surprise to see it being put to good use though."

"I'm the perfect combination of brains and brawn in one compact specimen Rajah, you know that." Owen laughed. He looked at the vet. "Sedation?"

"You think they need it?"

"Need? Probably not. Want? Definitely not. Necessary? I think so Rajah." Owen frowned, looking through the paddock gates into the enclosure.

"Sedative it is then," Imahara nodded, snapping his bag open.

 

* * *

 

"Is InGen going to be charged with illegal genetic testing?"

Owen's question hung in the air of Claire's office attached to the Innovation Center above the Creation Labs that were hauntingly silent. The scientists had all been evacuated off the Island along with the public, though some remained such as Wu who had flat out refused to leave the Island.

The office was as pristine as ever—large, minimalist and really fucking white—with nary a thing out of place. It surprised Owen that the cleaners had kept it tidy; with everything that had happened in the past seventy-two hours, he'd half-expected them to have packed up shop.

Maybe they were really dedicated cleaners.

Or too tired to care about hybrid dinosaurs that wanted to kill everyone on the Island.

Three days. They were still here after three days of chaos.

Surprising. Impossible. Insane.

The fact that the Park itself was even  _remotely_ operational was due to Masrani's skill with words, the wealth of his company, and the fortuitousness that no guests had actually  _seen_ the Indominus when she'd been rampaging down Main Street.

It could be written off as an escaped animal; the result of negligence on InGen's part—they certainly had enough evidence against Hoskins and, by extension, his employers—but Owen doubted it would work in the long-run.

InGen had survived the disaster of the first Park and the discovery of Site B. Both Alan Grant and Ian Malcolm had repeatedly lambasted the company over the years for their experiences on both islands. Ellie Sattler too, though she wasn't as outspoken as either of the two men. InGen had endured—albeit in a weaker form after the fiasco of The San Diego Incident.

They'd survive this too.

"It's not that simple,"Claire said. She didn't sigh exactly, but the tiny exhale of breath she let out was more than enough for Owen to understand.

 _'Of course, it's not,'_ Owen thought bitterly. '  _Not like it's fucking easy to figure out the rich company did bad and needs to be told off!'_

"Why?" Owen asked, voice flat in an effort to avoid letting his bitterness colour his words and upset Claire. She didn't deserve his anger about this—not after everything that had happened to them.

Claire looked at him, her eyes shining with a mixture of anger and sympathy. The feeling of her thoughts mirrored the emotions in her blue eyes.

She was as angry about this as he was.

It was nice to know, but it didn't exactly make the situation any easier to accept.

"If InGen is charged with illegal genetic testing and DNA testing on the X-gene, there's a very real danger that the animals in the Park will be seized and tested for any modifications or alterations by the scientists," Claire explained quietly. "As much as I'd like to see Hoskins and InGen charged for their actions, it's not possible based on the evidence of the Indominus because she was created by our labs and our scientists."

"But the video of Hoskins—" Owen protested but Claire cut him off, shaking her head.

"It would only work against Hoskins," she sighed, idly straightening an already perfectly aligned stack of paper on the edge of her desk. "Since we have no evidence that InGen  _ordered_ Hoskins to hack Simon's personal email, and since we already have documented evidence that Victor Hoskins is dangerously obsessed with weaponising animals for warfare, well—"

"InGen would throw Hoskins under the bus to cover their own ass and we'd be left with the animals still being taken," Owen finished. Claire nodded. "Damn."

A tense silence fell in the office as Owen and Claire both considered the proverbial corner they'd been forced into in regard to Hoskins and InGen.

"What's gonna be done about Hoskins then?" Owen finally asked. "You're not gonna let him go  _free_ after what he caused are you?"

Claire shook her head. "No," she replied forcefully. A spark of orange flashed through her blue eyes before she blinked and it was gone. "Victor Hoskins is going to be charged with reckless endangerment and hacking a private email. It might not give him a long sentence, but it'll get him off the Island for good."

Owen gave Claire a sharp grin.

"If it doesn't stick I'm sure Delta would love to solve the problem of Hoskins for us all," he quipped, pleased at the way Claire's lips twitched in amusement. "She's always had a bone to pick with Hoskins."

"To pick in general or out of his pile of bones?" Claire asked dryly, quirking an eyebrow at the relaxed shrug Owen answered with. "Well, it's not an official solution but I'll consider every avenue Mister Grady," she continued, a gleam of amusement in her eyes.

Owen nodded. "You always do Miss Dearing," he agreed.

Claire glanced at the watch on her wrist. "Lunch?"

Owen smiled. "Lunch," he echoed. "I haven't eaten since this morning before I fed the girls."

Claire flashed him a fond smile. "You must be starving," she joked. "Rare steak from Winston's?"

Although much of the Park was non-operational, Winston's, the Park Infirmary and the Vet's office were still running—treatment and food for both the animals and the trainers taking care of them.

They left the office together, door shutting and locking behind them automatically. Zara wasn't at her desk, only allowed to work half-days since she'd woken up in the Park Infirmary a day after the Indominus attack, so no one stopped them for a last-minute signature or message.

"Only if it's got dessert following after," Owen snorted, grinning at Claire as they walked towards the elevator that would take them down to the ground level of the  

"I suppose I can stretch to desert Grady," Claire said in a mock-pondering voice before looking at Owen, becoming serious. "It's the least I can do after you saved my nephews."

Owen glanced away, a soft look on his face. "They're good kids." He shrugged. "And besides, friends don't owe friends."

Claire smiled at him. "But they can still buy lunch for their friend if they're trying to say thank you to the only guy they know who doesn't appreciate cologne."

Owen huffed in mock-offense. "Cologne is hardly a good gift for a feral Dearing; like giving flammable tissue paper to a pyrokinetic."

Claire froze for a moment, shoulders tensing at Owen's causal comment, before she forcibly relaxed.

"So, you say," she shot back, her voice carrying only the lightest tension. "But I  _do_ enjoy making scrapbooks and tissue paper is an excellent gift for me. Flammability aside."

The lift doors opened and Claire neatly stepped inside as Owen stared at her.

"Wait  _really?"_ He gaped at her when all she did was shoot him a smirk, pressing the ground level button as she did.

Owen rolled his eyes. "Fine," he muttered, entering the elevator before the doors could shut. "But don't come after me when I buy you a year's supply of the damned stuff out of the bribe money Masrani is tossing at me."

Claire didn't roll her eyes, but Owen could tell by the way her eye twitched that she really wanted to.

"It's not a bribe Owen," she said, exasperated at the raptor trainer's resilience to the money Masrani Global was offering. "It's a lump payout  _everyone_ who was attacked by the Indominus, or suffered any negative effects from the damage to the Park is receiving. It's in your contract!"

"Is it?" Owen asked, honestly surprised by that. "Where?"

Now Claire did roll her eyes. "Did you even bother to read it before you signed it, or was the prospect of raising dangerous animals too distracting for you?" She sniped at him, words heavy with sarcasm.

Owen shot her an unamused look, frowning in mild annoyance. "Of course, I read the thing," he shot back. "But I didn't see a clause covering  _insane genetic testing by lunatics that almost try and eat the staff_ anywhere in it!"

The doors to the elevator opened out into the deserted Labs, their glass walls spotless and doors locked.

" _Masrani Global is liable for any animal-induced injury to guests or Park employees, provided that the injury is not the result of the individual goading the animal or attacking it._ " Claire recited as they walked down the corridors towards the main hall of the Innovation Center. "The Indominus—although the result of Hoskins' actions—is still classed as Masrani Global property since the process used to create her, as well as the patented DNA from the dinosaurs, are owned by Masrani Global. You were attacked several times by the Indominus, physically and mentally, so you've received compensation for your injuries."

Claire stopped walking, forcing Owen to stop and turn to face her. There was a serious look on her face that had Owen hesitating to speak.

"I've received compensation, as has ACU— _all_ of ACU—and the trainer's still on the Island who witnessed their animals being attacked or killed during the Aviary situation," Claire murmured, voice echoing softly in the large, empty space of the Innovation Center entrance. "Simon—he—well he insisted that anyone involved with the Indominus' termination should receive an additional twenty-percent because of the risk involved."

Claire looked away from Owen, her gaze focused on the doors to the Innovation Center, not really seeing them. Owen could feel the angle of her thoughts, the direction they headed. There were strong emotions attached to them—emotions Owen shared.

"We watched the entire thing from the Control Room, Owen." Claire's voice was barely above a whisper, so low Owen had to strain to hear her even with his enhanced senses. "And there wasn't anything we could do. We were—we were useless—helpless."

"You weren't useless Claire," Owen said softly, gently placing a hand on her arm. She looked at him. "No one who has the balls to lure Rexy out of her paddock with nothing but a flare is useless. Crazy—but not useless."

He smiled at her. "Besides, you threw  _fire_ at the  _Indominus._ That's some straight-up badass shit," Owen added, grinning when Claire huffed out a surprised laugh.

"I guess," Claire mumbled before letting out a surprised "Owen!" when he pulled her into a hug.

"Everyone needs hugs Claire, even my very very dangerous, scaly girls who are not cuddly in the  _slightest._ You're not an exception to that rule," Owen said firmly.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Claire relaxed in his arms. The tension that had been in her frame for days—maybe even  _years_ —leaking away, siphoned out of the Park Operations Manager like poison from a wound.

"Thank you," Claire said, letting go of Owen, fingers releasing the coarse fabric of Owen's vest jacket as she stepped back. "I guess I really needed that," she admitted ruefully.

Owen gave her a fond smile. "We all need a hug sometimes," he said. "Shall we?"

Claire smiled, relaxed and open in a way Owen didn't think he had ever seen before. "Definitely. I want a damned cheeseburger."

"No salad?" Owen teased.

"Oh, hell no!" Claire exclaimed, pushing the doors of the Innovation Center open. "I burnt through a lot of calories setting the Indominus on fire. I demand burgers in order to return those calories."

"Your wish is my command," Owen quipped, laughing when Claire punched him in the arm.  "Ow!"

"You're a feral, you can take it," Claire shot back, lips twitching.

Owen laughed. "Damn right I can," he agreed. "And so can you Miss Dearing."

Claire smiled. "That I can Mister Grady. That I can."

 

* * *

 

In the Security office where ACU and Park Security congregated, there was a lone member of Park Security. Everyone else was out in the Park, checking mechanisms, looking for any lingering guests who may have no left on the ferries that arrived thirty-six hours after the Indominus escaped.

At forty-nine years of age, Mike Robinson possessed a combination of tried-and-tested experience and complacency with a job he had little difficulty with. Even with the Indominus' rampage through the Park, Robinson was quick to return to his complacency after the initial panic died down—not in the least concerned by the lingering trauma many of his colleagues were experiencing.

Unlike a fair number of his colleagues, Mike Robinson had no army experience, and couldn't even handle a gun even though he was licenced for half a dozen different makes and models. At five-foot-eight he lacked the intimidation-factor many of his fellow Security Officers possessed, and being somewhat overweight, was not all capable of chasing anyone through the Park in the humid heat.

But for all that Robinson wasn't the perfect Security Officer, and for all that he didn't much care about anything that didn't affect him personally, he was very good at his job. Watching the security feeds for the entire Park was no easy task—a hundred separate feeds that were routed to Control, with an additional dozen from non-Park affiliated locations like the raptor paddock, meant that Robinson was busy watching everything that happened at the Park.

Except now the Park was empty of its guests, and the only people he could watch were his fellow employees. All in all, Robinson had very little to do—other than keep an eye on their lone prisoner in lock-up.

If anyone had ever asked Robinson if he'd ever see the day when the guy who signed off on his paychecks would end up in a cell, Robinson might have laughed at them. But here he was, keeping an eye on that very man.

The circumstances around Hoskins arrest and detainment were confusing, and no one had explained to Robinson exactly  _why_ the head of InGen Security had been arrested. All he knew was that it was pretty stupid of whoever decided that keeping him on the Island was the best course of action.

"You sure you have the money to do that?" Robinson asked, leaning against the wall of the thin corridor that ran alongside the half-dozen holding cells the Park had for problematic guests. "How can I trust you?"

"That bank account has over one million dollars in it," Hoskins said, voice sickly sweet in a way that would make most people's stomachs turn. Robinson didn't care so long as he could pay.

He was tired of this job and the prospect of retiring to a life of relaxing sunshine in the Bahamas sounded nice. Especially since he didn't have a family to bother worrying about.

The ladies there would love him.

"You let me go and that money is yours," Hoskins continued, snapping Robinson out of his pleasant planning. "But not before you let me out."

Robinson hesitated. If he let Hoskins out and the guy didn't pay him, he'd be in a lot of shit. But the bastard would be caught quick so maybe he could swing it in his favour if that happened.

If Hoskins  _did_ pay him though…

"Alright fine," Robinson agreed slowly. "But you're not leaving the office until you've paid me!"

"Of course, not a problem Robinson, not a problem," Hoskins hurriedly agreed, flashing a smile that was a little too sharp for Robinson's liking.

Still. A deal was a deal.

The security for the cell doors was incredibly low-tech really, just a simple keycard and code that was unique to each Security Officer. The camera feed went directly to Robinson's terminal so if things went sour, he could easily erase the data showing him opening Hoskins cell.

Hoskins stepped through the open doors, stretching his arms over his head as he did so in exaggerated relief. "Thanks Robinson, appreciate this."

"Yeah, well, just come on," Robinson snapped, turning on his heel and heading for the office. "I got the computer set up so you can transfer the funds—gah!"

Hoskins stood over Robinson, staring down at the man who now lay sprawled out on the ground, barely conscious and groaning. Robinson' head was bloody from the force Hoskins had slammed it into the wall beside them.

"Won't forget your help Robinson," he sneered, lashing out viciously with his foot, aiming for Robinson's head. There was a brutal crack and Robinson's body slumped, lax and lifeless. "Really appreciate it."

Stepping over the Security Officer, Hoskins made his way over to Robinson's terminal, sharp eyes flickering from feed to feed.

His attention was caught by the feed showing most of Main Street—what was left of it—and the two figures parting ways on it.

"Grady," he snarled, hands clenching into fists as he stared at the feeds, watching the trainer make his to the back access, obviously in his way back to his precious Velociraptors.

Hoskins smiled. It wasn't a nice smile.

Maybe he'd go say hi to those girls of Grady's, give them a goodbye gift before he left for calmer waters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made an OC and Hoskins _killed him jfc_. Wow. 
> 
> So yeah, not the last chapter apparently, but that means there's more to come—including JUSTICE!!


	17. Confrontation at the Raptor Paddock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I promised—that I'd never make the same mistakes again. And I didn't! I made new ones! Mistakes that killed people again, and the same methods I employed to create the Indominus created your pack and I—I wonder what I did wrong."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had half of this written with the last chapter but it didn't work that well there so I decided to add another chapter. I hope you enjoy the feelings and action in this chapter.

Owen threw himself down on the sofa in the den, inordinately thankful that Claire had decided to feed him.

He'd been so busy all day—checking Delta's arm; looking over the scrapes and cuts the others had received fighting the Indominus; cleaning the stables and paddock; sorting out their food—that he'd honestly forgotten all about eating anything more substantial than toast at ass-o'clock in the morning.

Feeling full and relaxed for the first time in days, Owen felt his eyelids droop closed—the food going a long way towards relaxing him. Hot food always made a person sleepy, no matter their metabolism, and Owen had ended up eating enough to put himself into a food-coma.

Claire had been impressed. And a little horrified at how many calories he needed to function.

"You need over five-thousand calories a  _day_ —Owen, the average for a man of your size is only  _half_ that amount!" Claire had exclaimed, staring at him with wide-eyes in the middle of Winston's. "How are you even functioning if you keep forgetting to eat?"

Owen had laughed, head thrown back in amusement at the horror he heard in Claire's voice. "I don't forget to eat, honest!" He'd defended himself, shrugging his shoulders. "Usually I'm pretty good about eating—past few days notwithstanding."

"You probably need as many calories as your raptors, Grady," Claire had sighed, sipping her iced tea as she rolled her eyes at him.

"Probably," he'd grinned, eyes lighting up at the sight of their meals fast-approaching their table.

Owen's lips quirked up in a lazy smile, eyes still closed as he thought about their conversation over lunch. He'd learnt quite a lot about the woman he'd once tried to date.

Including that she really  _did_ like making scrapbooks. He still didn't understand that.

The sofa was a perfect mix between soft and firm, more than enough comfort for Owen to relax into the plush material, sighing quietly in pleasure.

He had stuff to do but a short nap wouldn't be too bad really. Not in the long-run. He'd been so busy these past few days…

No-one could begrudge him forty-winks, now could they?

The pack was fine—he could feel their quiet calm through the bond he'd formed with them—and Barry was supposed to be returning tomorrow so he'd have more help with the pack.  

The other trainer had received extensive first aid training over the years, far more than Owen ever had, and had volunteered to help out at the Infirmary after seeing how many Park employees had been injured by the escaping flyers.

He sensed no lingering threat—or new ones—in the area and even an alpha needed to rest sometimes.

Just… five… minutes….

 

* * *

 

The sound of a Jeep fast-approaching the paddock woke him from his impromptu nap. Sitting up slowly, Owen scrubbed the sleep out of his eyes, squinting at his wristwatch—the glowing numbers confusing his foggy mind for a long moment before he remembered how to read.

"Huh," he muttered, surprised that he'd managed two hours without any interruptions. The pack hadn't alerted him to any dangers, and evidently no-one had thought to visit before now.

Standing, Owen stretched his arms over his head, letting out a grunt of pleasure as his back cracked. The pack was calm out in their enclosure so whoever was coming up the road didn't register as a threat to them—but they were watchful nonetheless.

The sun was still shining brightly in the late afternoon, bringing with it a hot warmth that kept Owen's body lethargic far longer than he'd prefer. Damn but he hated midday naps! They always messed him up!

Heading for the paddock, Owen watched the road cutting through the jungle out of the corner of his eye as the sound of the Jeep grew louder with every passing second. The whirr of its engine put it as relatively old compared to most of the Park cars, but hardy and capable of going the distance no matter what. Owen's bike was much the same.

"Wonder who this is girls," he said casually, glancing back at his pack as he did so. Blue and Echo were close to the second set of gates, Charlie and Delta further away but no less dangerous for it.

Blue barked at him, vocalisation of her alien-yet-still-familiar thoughts that Owen could sense from his beta. He smiled at the sense of territorial protectiveness he felt from them all.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I agree. No more unwanted guests."

Delta warbled at him curiously, the drift of her thoughts edging towards the same feeling they had when hunting prey for a quick snack. Owen laughed.

"No Delta," Owen shook his head as the Jeep appeared out of the jungle. "You can't eat 'em. Humans are too stringy."

Owen grinned at his beta when she snorted, shaking her head from side to side in apparent disagreement. "Promise to give you guys a nice Pachy to hunt soon as I can girls," Owen promised, amused at his pack's behaviour.

The Jeep rolled to a stop a few feet from the paddock, drawing Owen's attention to its driver. He was surprised when Henry Wu climbed out of the driver’s side, face blank even though he was radiating tension. The geneticist's scent was muted, lacking in any significant indicators of emotional upset or cologne.

Owen's nose twitched. Come to think of it, Owen belatedly realised that the Jeep itself—over ten-years old judging by its body—had no overwhelming scent to it. No oil or gas.

Odd.

He put aside the strange absence of any discernable scent to Wu or his Jeep—maybe the man had used one of the scent scrubbers the Lab produced for cleaning out old pens—and instead focused on the man's body language.

Wu held himself tightly, compact and contained. The calm demeanour the man presented the world belied the whirlwind of thought constantly spinning around in his mind. There was more tension to the man's frame than Owen usually saw—and a discomfort bred by guilt and… something else Owen couldn't readily identify—but Wu seemed surprisingly put-together for someone who had witnessed his own creation go off the proverbial rails.

"Gotta admit, never thought I'd see you here," Owen finally said after a long, drawn out staring contest between the two men.

Wu's lip twitched. "I will confess, I never thought I'd come here Mister Grady." Wu looked at the pack stood at the gate of the paddock, Blue and Echo staring unblinkingly at the geneticist. "But life is full of surprises."

 _'Understatement,'_ Owen thought, moving away from the paddock towards Wu.

"Life finds a way, right?" Owen quipped.

Wu breathed out a breath he'd been holding, the tension in his body lessening as Owen led the geneticist away from the paddock.

"Doctor Malcolm—as much as the man irritates me—is right far more often than I'd care to admit," Wu replied, a trace of amusement in his voice as the entered the den.

The geneticist busied himself with looking around the room, taking in the sofa and table, the chest freezer and other assorted belongings of Owen and Barry that were strewn about.

Owen watched Wu, cataloguing the lingering tension in the man, the almost constant hum of expectation that clung to the geneticist.

"You don't like being near the raptors, do you?" Owen asked bluntly, refusing to beat around the bush with the scientist.

Wu paused, body stilling unnaturally for a long moment before he slowly turned to look at Owen. "Is it that obvious?" He asked quietly, answering Owen's question by asking another.

"Not to most people no," Owen replied, shrugging a shoulder as he leaned against the wall, arms folded over his chest. "But I'm not exactly 'most people' so."

"No, you're not," Wu murmured, staring at Owen with an inscrutable look on his face. "How are your pack Mister Grady?" He asked suddenly, an obvious attempt to redirect the conversation. "I am aware Velociraptors are naturally quick healers but I imagine your pack recovers at an accelerated rate compared to their Sorna counterparts."

Owen stared at Wu, a guarded look in his eyes. Telling the geneticist could be a mistake, but, at the same time, Owen accepted the fact that Wu was probably one of the only people on the Island that had any understanding of his pack's DNA cocktail who could be of use.

"Delta had a pretty damaged forearm from the Indominus," Owen said, gaze locked with Wu's in a blatant challenge. "Almost good as new."

"I see." Wu looked away, breaking eye-contact. His dark gaze focused on the paddock visible through the reinforced glass pane of the window to his right. "I am... relieved none of them suffered fatal injuries from the confrontation with the Indominus Rex."

"But you're uncomfortable being so close to them regardless," Owen stated, moving to stand next to Wu. Wu glanced at him. "Experiences from the original Park?" He guessed.

Wu laughed. There was a sharp slash of bitterness to his laughter and voice when he spoke. "Something like that," he said. "I was the chief geneticist for the Velociraptors of Hammond's Park."

Wu tilted his head, staring at the paddock where Blue was visible—the raptor peering through the gates at the den.

"I created the animals that killed several of my colleagues and almost ate the grandchildren of the man who had personally hired me," Wu whispered. "After everything that had happened I promised myself—I promised—that I'd never make the same mistakes again." Wu let out a sharp laugh. "And I didn't! I made new ones! Mistakes that killed people again, and the same methods I employed to create the Indominus created your pack and I—"

Wu squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the ridge of his nose as he exhaled. "I wonder what I did wrong—that I created  _theme-park monsters_ while your pack are shining examples of what I wanted to create—but  _didn't_ because I shoved the responsibility of creating raptor eggs onto my colleague." Wu confessed.

"You didn't make a mistake with their DNA Wu," Owen said after a long pause. Wu snorted. "Well, you did, because human DNA, " he corrected himself. "Genetics can code specific behaviours into us, sure. But the environment any animal is raised in can dramatically affect its development. The Indominus was raised in a box—there was no way she was going to be anything but maladjusted and rabid. That's not genetics, that's  _nurture_."

"The nature versus nurture debate does tend to crop up a lot when discussing dinosaurs doesn't it?" Wu commented, a vein of amusement in his voice as his lips twitched.

Owen shrugged. "There's a good reason for that," he pointed out. "Evolution is still a hot topic of debate and figuring out if it's your DNA that decides your behaviour or how you're raised is something a shitload of people, with more degrees and brains than I've got, have been studying for years. Not exactly surprising that we still don't have an answer for it is it though?"

"I'm a geneticist Mister Grady," Wu said quietly. "My job isn't to consider the feelings of what I create, or how to socialise it. My job is to do the impossible a thousand times over before I can even  _consider_ adding two different DNA strands together." He looked at Owen, a sad half-smile on his face. "But maybe it should be considering how much behavioural characteristics are coded into DNA."

Owen shrugged. "By that logic, I should probably start looking into getting a degree in genetics," he said. "You don't need to specialise in everything Wu, you just gotta remember that talking to other people who don't have the same background as you can go a long way in solving a problem you didn't even know you had."

Wu smiled, inclining his head. "Words to live by Mister Grady."

"You can call me Owen you know?" Owen said, giving Wu a half-smile when the geneticist blinked in surprise. "It took the Indominus almost eating me for Claire to drop the constant formality. Don't fancy having a repeat just to get you to drop it too Wu."

Wu chuckled softly. "No, I imagine not," he agreed. "Fair enough  _Owen._ But you can call me Henry if you wish to—seems only right considering my work almost killed you."

"I don't blame you for what the Indominus did, " Owen said quietly. "I'm not happy about it, especially the fact that you used  _my DNA_ to make her, but I don't blame you for her existence in the first place. That I blame  _Hoskins_ for."

"The memo I received was more than vague enough to provide me with plenty of room to do as I wished in the Indominus' creation," Wu countered. "Hoskins wasn't the one who added human DNA— _your_ DNA—to the Indominus' DNA. That's my responsibility."

Owen sighed. "We could argue who deserves more blame all day Henry," Owen said tiredly. "Hoskins for the memo demanding her; you for making her; me for letting myself be wrongly classified for years; Claire for refusing to approach me sooner to evaluate the paddock for her. But what does it matter anymore?"

Owen turned away from the glass, walking over to the mini-fridge in the den. Pulling out two bottles of water, Owen handed the second one to Wu who accepted it with a nod.

"The Indominus is dead," Owen continued after drinking half the bottle in one. "The Park's suffered one heck of a setback. People died. It was a fucking awful experience all-round, but we're still alive and here to tell the tale." He gave Wu a tired smile. "Fighting over how much guilt and blame to assign won't change what's happened—we do that shit to make ourselves feel better, and end up spending more time squabbling than we do actually  _doing_ useful shit to make up for everything that happened."

"Wise words Mister—Owen," Wu murmured. He stared out at the paddock, eyes distant. "Though perhaps we may yet surprise ourselves."

"Humans surprise each other every day," Owen replied flatly. "Trick is not making those surprises fatal."

Wu huffed out a quiet laugh. "True enough."

Owen shot Wu an amused look. "Is there anything else you came out here for—besides trying to apologise for the clusterfuck the last few days have been?" He asked, a teasing note in his voice.

"Uh, not really actually," Wu answered, blinking in surprise. "I suppose I expected you to still be angry and… well I don't know what I expected other than that really."

Owen grinned. "Well then, might as well make your drive up worthwhile." He clapped Wu on the shoulder. "Come on, I'll introduce you the pack your science helped create."

Wu visibly hesitated.

"Promise to keep the gates closed," Owen added gently. "Only way they'll open is by hitting the switches."

Wu nodded. "Okay," he said, swallowing. "I suppose I should meet your pack properly."

"Excellent! Come on then."

Wu followed Owen out of the den and across the clearing towards the paddock. Both men were silent; one tense, the other enjoying the quiet.

"Oh hey," Owen said, looking over his shoulder at Wu. "Did you run through one of the jet-washers that scrub the Park vehicles?"

Wu frowned. "No," he said, confusion in his voice. "Why do you ask?"

Owen paused, several feet from the paddock. "I can't pick up your scent, thought you'd ran through a scrub-wash on the way up," he explained, frowning. "I'm guessing you didn't?"

"No, I didn't." Wu turned to look at his Jeep. "No-one uses my personal vehicle so I don't know who could—"

A sharp laugh cut Wu off. Owen's head snapped around.

"Howdy Grady!" Victor Hoskins grinned, eyes manic. In his hands, he held a pump-action shotgun. "Nice job with the Indominus!"

"Hoskins!" Owen snarled, eyes flashing. He dropped into a defensive stance, claws extending as he glared at Hoskins.

Wu shifted beside him, stepping back slightly.

"Mister Hoskins—" Wu began but a loud  _crack_ cut him off as Hoskins pulled the trigger.

Owen let out a pained yelp as he fell back, landing sprawled out on the ground with a bleeding chest. He rolled onto his side, curling up in pain with a hiss.

Already his body was healing the damage but damnit it wasn't healing fast enough!

The pack screeched from behind the gates—Blue throwing herself at them, slamming bodily against the reinforced metal with an enraged snarl.

Wu stumbled back, tripping over his own feet as he stared in wide-eyed horror at the sight of Owen bloodied and curled up in the dirt.

Hoskins strolled forward, whistling. "Had to pay you back for that punch Grady," he said amiably, cocking the shotgun again. "This one is for thinkin' you call the shots."

Wu lashed out with his telekinesis, forcing the shotgun's muzzle to the side and it unloaded harmlessly into the ground beside Owen. Hoskins snarled, head jerking around as he glared at Wu.

"That was rude doc!" Hoskins said, swinging the shotgun around, arming it directly at Wu's head. "How many times can you deflect my shots?" He asked curiously.

Wu swallowed. Owen groaned next to him, raising his head sluggishly as he looked at Wu.

 _'The gates.'_ Wu twitched, looking at Owen out of the corner of his eye as Hoskins stood over them, grinning.  _'Open the paddock gates.'_

Open the gates.

To the raptor enclosure.

Open the gates.

And let out the monsters that had killed his friends once before.

Open the gates.

"I'm betting you'll only manage it twice more doc!" Hoskins grinned at Wu, raising the shotgun to aim at him. "I read your file you know? Read the files of every mutant Masrani has on this damned Island. Learnt all I could about those mutations of yours. Beta-level telekinesis, right? Not exactly all that strong, is it?" Hoskins laughed. "Shame for you."

Wu swallowed.  _'I have to do this,'_ he thought frantically.  _'I have to. God… please let this work.'_

Wu rolled to the side suddenly, throwing out a hand in the direction of the paddock, focusing on the gate controls he could see.

A push button. God but it was so simple.

A telekinetic wave slammed into them with enough force to set the alarms blaring, signalling the gates were opening.

Hoskins jerked back a step, shotgun swinging around to face the paddock.

Owen leapt at him, chest protesting at the sudden movement after barely healing enough to move without his every breath burning. Slamming bodily into Hoskins, Owen wrestled for the shotgun, slashing at the other man with his claws.

Hoskins let out a yell of pain and the pair fell to the ground. Owen managed to grip the muzzle of the shotgun well enough to dent the metal as he forcibly wrenched it out of Hoskins' hands.

Hoskins took the chance to slam a first into Owen's side, causing him to let out a sharp hiss of pain, chest burning anew as he felt a rib crack. It healed moments later and Owen slammed his own fist into Hoskins' face.

There was a sudden silence in the clearing, the alarms for the paddock gates falling silent.

Wu scrambled away from the fighting men on his hands and feet, scuttling back until he hit the wall of the raptor paddock with a quiet  _thump._ He froze, eyes wide as four Velociraptors streaked out from beneath the open gates.

They ignored him completely.

Hoskins, managing to reach the knife on Owen's belt, drove it into Owen's side, twisting it viciously.

Owen fell back with a cut off cry of pain, instantly grabbing the knife still embedded in his side and wrenching it out with a hiss.

Hoskins scrambled back, shifting onto his hands and knees.

Wu watched in silent horror as one of the Velociraptors leapt at the ex-head of InGen Security—slamming him face first into the ground, it's jaws locking around his head, claws digging into flesh and drawing blood.

 _"Delta!"_ Owen snapped, struggling to his feet, tossing the knife to the ground as he stared that the Velociraptor. "Delta no!"

Delta ignored the feral, twisting her head viciously to the side and, with an audible  _crack,_ Wu watched as the Velociraptor killed Hoskins.

The other Velociraptors stared at Owen as the fourth dropped Hoskins' lifeless body to the ground. Wu could do nothing but stare, almost hyperventilating, as the four Velociraptors moved close to Grady.

They were going to eat him. They were—

"That wasn't a good idea girl," Owen murmured, reaching out to scratch Delta's head, heedless of the blood splattered all over her front and the tainted teeth she revealed as she curled her lip.

The world wavered, black dots dancing around in Wu's vision. Owen looked at him suddenly, the feral shimmering as Wu stared.

"Doctor Wu?" Owen's voice was distorted, sounding as though he was talking through a particularly bad radio. "Henry?"

The last thing Wu saw before everything turned black was Owen Grady surrounded by four Lethal Velociraptors with the body of Victor Hoskins not three feet away.

It was a sight that would stay with him until he died.

 

* * *

 

 

"Well this is a disaster," Claire finally said in the tense silence of Masrani's office.

Owen, Claire and Masrani were sat in the chairs near the desk, tense and emanating worry.

"Why did you tell Henry to open the gates to the enclosure Mister Grady?" Masrani asked, looking at the Raptor trainer with a solemn gaze.

Owen sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Honestly?" He said. "I needed the distraction the pack gave me to disarm Hoskins."

"You intentionally released wild animals Owen!" Claire exclaimed. "Wild animals that are intelligent and territorial! You didn't think that was  _maybe_ a bad idea?"

"I thought it was the only idea that would stop Doctor Wu from getting a face full of lead!" Owen snapped. "I can heal sure, but he can't. The pack saw Hoskins as a threat. I thought I'd be able to hold them off, but… Delta really hated Hoskins."

"And that justifies her  _killing him?"_ Claire asked, horrified.

"Of course not!" Owen refuted heatedly. "The other's listened to me—even Blue. I didn't expect that much resistance from Delta. It threw me and by the time I could get her to back off, it was too late."

Masrani sighed. "What is done is done now," he said quietly. "The question is this: what do we do now?"

"With Hoskins dead, we no longer have to concern ourselves with charging him with email hacking and corporate espionage which certainly saves on expenses," Claire explained curtly. "It's not ideal but it also goes a fair way in helping us avoid revealing the Indominus' existence at all. We can say that she died from an illness she contracted to our investors, and purge the data from our systems to prevent any attempts by InGen to obtain her genetic code."

Claire paused, visibly hesitating for a moment before adding softly. "We can report Hoskins' death as having occurred during the Aviary Breach."

Owen felt something relax deep inside as Masrani nodded in agreement with Claire's suggestion. His pack were safe. For now.

"What do we do about InGen?" Owen asked, looking between the CEO and Park Operations Manager. "Without Hoskins, we can't pin anything on them."

Masrani smiled suddenly, looking at Owen with the amusement in his dark eyes. "InGen will not be a problem for long Mister Grady," the CEO said, leaning over to pluck a sheet of paper off his desk.

Handing it to Owen, Masrani's smile widened. "Mister Lowery was so kind as to look in InGen's servers—using their own hack on our system that Hoskins initiated—for anything that could help us make a case against them."

"What am I looking at exactly?" Owen asked, reading the list of what he assumed were filenames.

"It's a list of files Lowery found that detail a variety of tests using human and non-human DNA with a focus on military applications," Claire answered, a sharp smile on her face. "Those alone reveal that InGen has been engaging in repeated breaches of its contract with Masrani Global as well as illegal genetic testing."

A sharp, predatory smile blossomed on Owen's face as he looked up at Claire and Masrani.

"The information will be leaked to the public forty-eight hours from now and Masrani Global will be making a public statement demanding an investigation into InGen and its actions—with a particular emphasis on its influence over the Aviary Breach that cost the lives of six guests, a dozen Park employees and nine baby dinosaurs," Claire finished, sitting back in her chair with a satisfied air.

"Even if nothing comes from an investigation into their actions, the public release of information will be enough for Masrani Global to cease all relations with InGen with no negative effect to the Park or the animals residing within it," Masrani added.

"Win-win scenario then," Owen said, and Masrani nodded. "Good to know."

 

* * *

 

The Park was officially closed for six months while the Aviary was repaired, before it was audited and declare fit for a grand reopening Masrani Global paid out several lump sum settlements to guests who had suffered because of the incident.

Claire remained Park Operations Manager after Simon personally vouched for her with the board, pointing out how instrumental she had been in maintaining control of the Park and actively preventing loss of life with her decisions.

Owen found himself and his pack fully under the purview of Masrani Global, no longer expected to deal with constant discussions of "potential military applications" of his pack. Instead he was given the option of agreeing to a public display of the pack using the enclosure designed for the Indominus.

It was six times the size of the pack's current enclosure and—so long as his strict rules and high standards were met—Owen agreed. The schedule for the public viewing—a VIP privilege alone, guests subject to detailed checks—was decided only a fortnight in advance, with all viewings cancelled if Owen decided.

The pack, while initially displeased with the change in territory, grew to appreciate the size and variety the new enclosure presented them. Owen still took them hunting in the Restricted Section once a month, making good use of the back-access routes to ferry his pack to-and-from the Restricted Section.

Blue still challenged him to races through the jungle; Delta continued to push the boundaries; Charlie enjoyed stalking small prey in the trees and bringing her kills to her alpha; and Echo took great pleasure in the freedom afforded to the flightiest of the pack, darting between the trees with exuberant enthusiasm.

Owen found that he missed the quiet of the Restricted Section sometimes, especially in the early afternoon when the Park was thrumming with activity. But he wouldn't give up the absolute relief he felt at never having to deal with Hoskins ever again.

Most people would have been horrified at what had happened to Hoskins—Wu certainly had been—but Owen wasn't most people. He was a feral, an omega-level mutant, who had hunted down and killed men before in the Navy. Survival was the name of the game for Owen, and Hoskins had threatened that survival.

So much suffering had been caused by the man, by Hoskins obsession with war. Owen didn't regret his death, only the circumstances that forced Delta to be the one to kill him.

True to his word, Masrani ensured that the information Lowery had collected from InGen's servers was released to the public domain forty-eight hours after their talk in Masrani's office. It took only hours for some enterprising Internet icon to pick up on the data dump, spinning Twitter, Facebook and a half-dozen other social media sites into a frenzy that eventually garnered a response from InGen.

An official investigation was launched into InGen's activities and Masrani Global seized the opportunity to cut InGen out of all matters relating to Jurassic World—from the leasing of the Island to the patents for the DNA of the animals.

It took over a year for the investigation to reach the conclusion that InGen had acted unlawfully, carrying out illegal tests on genetic manipulation and the company faced heavy fines. A significant number of its shareholders abandoned the sinking ship of a company, forcing it to sell off a large portion of its assets. Asserts that Masrani Global snapped up. Isla Sorna officially became property of Masrani Global a year and a half after the Indominus incident, and Masrani wasted no time in establishing a permanent research site on the Island.

Located along the sheer cliff faces to the south of the Island, there was little risk of any of the wild inhabitants attacking the visiting scientists. Owen had laughed himself silly at the prospect of a safe research site on Isla Sorna. Site B was a death-trap.

Still, the idea was an interesting one. Observing dinosaurs in a habitat not regulated by humans. Well, if Owen didn't have his pack he might have been tempted to go to Site B himself.

But he was happy where he was. Isla Nublar was his home and he was there to stay for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's over! It's complete!! Sweet mercy I'm done! Someone hold me, I need to cry. 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has been with me for this long ride. Thank you and I hope you enjoyed this disastrously long fic. Your comments and kudos have been greatly appreciated, spurring me on to complete this.


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